Twisted Mind
by Erin Giles
Summary: Jack and Ianto retrieve an artefact one night that is seemingly harmless, but seemingly harmless soon turns into violent mood swings, exploding heads and the disappearance of half of Cardiff’s criminals. But what does this have to do with Ianto Jones?
1. Prologue

**Title: **Twisted Mind

**Author: **Erin Giles

**Characters/Pairings: **Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Martha, PC Andy, OC's

**Warnings: **Character Death, Gory Violence

**Rating: **R

**Word Count: **24,000

**Beta: **pinkfairy727

**Art:** geckoholic

**Summary: **Our thoughts are what drive us; good thoughts, bad thoughts, end of the world type thoughts. But what happens when you suddenly have thoughts inside your head that aren't your own? Jack and Ianto retrieve an artefact one night that is seemingly harmless, but seemingly harmless soon turns into violent mood swings, exploding heads and the disappearance of half of Cardiff's criminals. But what does this have to do with Ianto Jones, and just what is he building?

**A/N: **I tried to make this as much like a Torchwood novel as possible just to stop myself from writing another epic hurt/comfort fic (not that I have anything against that). I think it worked. Also thanks to all my cheerleaders – you know who you guys are, and thanks to my flatmate who helped greatly with the concept of the alien. And last, but by far the least, thanks to Sam who as always puts up with my shoddy spelling/sentence structure and provided a much need biological insight.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

"_First thoughts are not always the best."_

Vittorio Alfieri

Gracie Jones' father was going to kill her if he caught her sneaking back into the house at five past one in the morning. And not just in the metaphorical sense - Gracie was pretty sure that if her father caught her he would string her up outside as a warning to all the other teenagers in the neighbourhood. He was Mr. Jones to everyone, no matter what his or her age or social standing - that was just the sort of man he was.

The Jones family had all gone to bed early the previous evening in order to be wide-awake for visiting Granny Haversham. All of them except Gracie. Daniel Evans had been throwing a party and Robbie Davies had been attending, so she'd just _had_ to go, hadn't she? Besides, she wasn't about to let Polly Thomas get her claws into him while she sipped on blue alcopops and laughed in that high-pitched twitter that barely separated her from farm animals.

Gracie pulled off her red patent heels – the ones that her mother had told her were too sluttish for a seventeen-year-old girl - before starting to climb the gate, tights snagging on splinters as the wind teased at her polka-dot mini-skirt. She was looking forward to her eighteenth birthday just so she didn't have to sneak out the house and avoid the detection of her father, the criticism of her mother and the tattling of her little brother at Monday teatime about what she'd actually been up to over the weekend.

She chucked her shoes and bag onto the kitchen roof as she got a good footing halfway up the gate. That was when next door's dog started barking, probably at her.

"Shut up, Barney!" she hissed over the garden fence, catching the swish of the mongrel's tail as he put his paws up on the fence that separated the gardens. She hoisted herself onto the top of the gate, hoping the dog didn't wake anyone up. From her perch, she could see all the gardens down the row; number 47 had squeezed a trampoline into the small patch of grass at the back so that nothing else fitted. Barney started yapping more persistently as she tried to shush him again. The dog, however, was now the least of her worries.

Suddenly there was a bright flash followed by a loud bang that scared Gracie into losing her footing. She screamed as she tumbled head over arse, hitting the wheelie bin on the way down - something that would no doubt manifest as an epic bruise come morning. She swore, loudly now since there was no point in keeping quiet because Barney was barking louder than ever and the kitchen light had just flicked on.

When she brought herself, struggling, to her feet her father was peering out the window at her, an angry look on his face. It didn't really matter what she said or did now, she'd just signed her own death warrant, and so she gave him a hesitant smile in return. His expression soon changed to one of shock though as he stared past Gracie into the nine-foot by six-foot piece of land they called the garden. Gracie slowly turned round, gravel digging into her feet through her ruined tights.

Next to the whirly-gig there was something smoking in the ground. A blue glow rose from it that was hitting several washing lines, catching the underside of leaves that had had a hole burnt through them.

Gracie's eyes were close to popping out of her head as she approached the small crater, ignoring the sounds of her father unlocking the backdoor followed by his angry yells. The grass soaked through her tights to her feet, making them colder, but the nearer she got to the crater the warmer and dryer the grass got until she found it singed slightly. She bent down in the grass to get a closer look.

Then Gracie Jones had a thought.


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

_"Thought once awakened does not again slumber."_  
Thomas Carlyle

Torchwood had closed up for the evening hours ago. The lights glowed dimly around the workstations, the floodlights switched off to save energy in an underground base that never really slept. There was always one computer on and one light forgotten about somewhere in the depths of the base.

Ianto Jones had tried to implement Earth Week the previous year without much success, encouraging the others to switch off lights when they left rooms and turn off computers when they were done with them, but that had lead to more arguments and more headaches than it was really worth. Especially when Owen had switched off his samples fridge in an act of protest and left the remains of a Weevil to go off. It had taken three cans of air freshener just to take the edge off, and that had been the end of Ianto's energy saving project.

By all rights, Ianto Jones should have left Torchwood hours ago when Gwen Cooper had announced that she was going home to her wonderful husband who was cooking lasagne. Ianto had made a joke about Rhys not knowing how to make anything else but Gwen had given as good as she got and retorted that her man at least knew how to cook. Ianto couldn't really argue with that logic, but his man knew far more skilful things to do with his hands.

Which was why Ianto now found himself in a state of undress, stumbling across the Hub floor to the sofa, Jack pressing furtive kisses to any available part of skin. Ianto was busy trying to rid himself of his shoes, glad that he wasn't wearing lace ups as Jack's hands untucked Ianto's shirt from his trousers, pushing him backwards onto the sofa. Ianto's back hit it with a little oomph of discomfort, the black bin bag that he had been filling up before Jack distracted him rustling beneath him. Jack whipped the bag out from underneath Ianto, flinging it halfway across the Hub, and Ianto didn't even bat an eyelid, too busy pulling Jack down on top of him and crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss.

But that was when, as usual, it all went wrong. Because Ianto could see a monitor flashing out of the corner of his eye and he vaguely registered the sound of beeping as Jack's hands fumbled with his belt.

"Jack," he managed to mumble out against Jack's neck, but Jack didn't register it as a plea for him to stop, more as encouragement.

"Jack," he managed again, his voice piquing at the end of the name as Jack's hands started fondling with far more skill than a culinary genius. Somehow, with a great amount of self-restraint on Ianto's part, he managed to push Jack away from him, extracting himself from the man's clutches with more than a little regret.

"Ianto?" Jack asked, confusion in his voice as he rolled over on the sofa, trousers and shirt undone, mirroring Ianto's attire as he stumbled towards the computer screen at Gwen's desk.

"Rift alert in Penarth," Ianto replied after a moment, already tucking his shirt back into his trousers with some amount of disdain. One of these days he'll get to be like Gwen and actually get through a meal, or even better, make it past foreplay. He'll find himself sat at home, halfway through a bottle of wine, watching Dr. No and be oblivious to the fact that the rest of the team are out chasing aliens across Cardiff.

Jack gave a groan behind him and buried his head in the sofa cushions. Ianto supposed that was one of the problems with shagging the boss.


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

_"I have always thought the actions of men  
the best interpreters of their thoughts."_  
John Locke

Ianto straightened his tie before he stepped out of the SUV into the road outside the Jones' residence. It was one of those old, semi-detached, miner's houses that was now sold to fashionable people. Yet, as Mr. Jones greeted them on the doormat, Ianto realised that this was a house that had probably been passed down through generations.

"Graham Jones works for Lloyds TSB on Queen Street and Shelia Jones is a housewife. Two children, Gracie and David. Gracie is seventeen and has applied to Swansea University to do Biochemistry. David is fourteen and according to his latest school report, 'has trouble concentrating in class,'" Ianto had reeled off his PDA as they walked up the path to the front door.

Jack was all smiles as he greeted Mr. Jones on the doorstep, shaking his hand jovially as he let himself into the house. Ianto inclined his head slightly in greeting before asking to be shown into the back garden. A rather bemused woman in an overly fluffy pink dressing gown and slippers showed him through into the kitchen and down the steps into what barely passed as a back garden, yet somehow they'd managed to squeeze a patio with chairs and a table, a whirly-gig and a garden shed into it.

"Gave us the fright of our life I can tell you," Mrs. Jones mumbled, pulling her dressing gown tighter round her as she stood on the back step, silhouetted by the light coming from the kitchen. Ianto was treading across the wet grass, following in Gracie Jones' footsteps as Mrs. Jones continued to babble about the shenanigans of her daughter.

"I mean, she's a teenager isn't she. I was one once, I understand that she wants to go out and meet some boys, that's how I met our Graham," Mrs. Jones was saying, but Ianto was barely listening. He was far too interested in the small circular object that was lying at the bottom of a small crater in the Jones' back garden. He could feel the heat radiating from it, burning his cheeks as he bent down in the grass, PDA in hand as he scanned it. His eye wasn't on the PDA though; he was busy watching the blue ball that was no bigger than a marble as something seemed to swirl inside it, like it was a bubble full of liquid.

"Has anyone touched this?" Ianto asked, stopping Mrs. Jones mid sentence and stunning her into silence.

"Touched what, love?" Mrs. Jones asked suddenly confused, coming down off the step onto the patio and standing at the edge of the grass, reluctant to get her slippers wet.

"The meteor that scared your daughter into falling off the garden gate," Ianto replied, repeating Mrs. Jones' own words back to her. He didn't turn to look at her as he pulled a pair of industrial rubber gloves from the containment box he'd brought with him. He snapped them on happily as the PDA he had put down on the grass beeped at him.

"Well, you know kids. Our David was out trying to examine it with his astrology set," Mrs. Jones said, sounding slightly defensive. Ianto frowned down at the PDA that was telling him there was nothing hazardous about the small object apart from the heat signature. Ianto was surprised when he picked it up to find that it was cold to the touch. He placed it in the bottom of the box, throwing the gloves in after it before he shut the lid.

"But he didn't touch it, though?" Ianto asked as he pulled himself back to his feet, dragging the box and PDA with him.

Mrs. Jones shook her head. "No, nobody touched it, not as far as I'm aware. Why, is it important, dear?"

"No," Ianto replied, giving a slight shake of the head and that shy smile that seemed to endear him to old women with blue rinses, though Mrs. Jones hadn't quite reached that stage yet.

"Where did you say you were from again, love?" Mrs. Jones asked as she followed Ianto back into the kitchen, noting happily that he wiped his feet on the back doormat.

"Astronomical Society at the University of Cardiff," Ianto expertly lied as he moved down the corridor, glancing into the living room where Jack currently had both of his hands round Gracie Jones' in comfort as the girl stared off into the distance. Her father was standing behind her looking extremely pissed off, which made Ianto think the poor girl was going to get an earful the minute they left.

Jack gave Ianto a nod before he was pulling himself to his feet, flashing one of his disarming and dazzling smiles that made people forget it was odd that a man in a RAF greatcoat who was employed by the Astronomical Society at the University of Cardiff was still working at 2 o'clock in the morning.

"Thanks for your time, Mr. & Mrs. Jones," Jack said politely, following Ianto out of the front door of the Joneses and heading towards the driver's door of the SUV as Ianto deposited the containment box in the boot.

Ianto slid into the passenger side as Mrs. Jones shut the front door. He saw the curtains twitching in the house next door as Jack started up the engine of the SUV.

"So, Miss. Gracie Jones is a dirty stop out," Jack said as he pulled out into the road, searching for a way out of the housing estate that had sprung up around the old miners houses.

"It would seem so," Ianto replied, looking out the front windscreen of the SUV as he swallowed a yawn. He could feel a headache building behind his eyes, probably due to lack of sleep and no doubt caffeine withdrawal.

"She says there was a flash of light, followed by a bang before she fell off the gate," Jack continued. "Also not sure she was entirely sober."

"Are you suggesting we report her for underage drinking?" Ianto asked, a note of bitter irony in his voice. Jack gave a bark of a laugh at that.

"Get caught out drinking in the park on a Saturday night, Ianto?" Jack asked, a note of intrigue to his voice.

"I was always tucked up in my bed by nine o'clock, especially on school nights," Ianto replied, dry wit coming to the forefront. Jack smiled to himself but didn't make a comment on the matter. He knew Ianto Jones had been quite the little youthful offender.

"So what did you find out in the back garden?" Jack asked, glancing over at Ianto in the passenger seat, watching as he raised a hand to his head, rubbing at his temple.

"Back garden is a bit of an overstatement. It was more of an exercise yard," Ianto mumbled. "It wasn't a meteor though, something that looks like a blue marble with liquid inside, faintly glowing and giving off a heat signature, but mostly harmless."

"Mostly harmless?" Jack enquired, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Well, it might put a bit of a flush in your cheeks, but it's not going to singe your eyebrows off," Ianto placated.

"Any idea what it is?" Jack asked as they crossed over the barrage back towards the docks.

"I'm afraid I forgot my Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy when we left the Hub this evening," Ianto deadpanned as he rolled his neck, trying to get rid of the cricks in it. They travelled the last few miles back to the Hub in silence, Ianto rubbing fruitlessly at his head, trying to quell the building headache and closing his eyes as the streetlights flashed through the window in a seizure inducing way.

"So," Jack started as he pulled into the car park underneath the Welsh Millennium Centre, Ianto's eyes squinting against the bright glare of the halogen lights in the underground car park. "Ready to pick up where we left off?" Jack suggested, turning to Ianto in his seat and giving a waggle of his eyebrows.

Ianto wanted to say yes, really he did, but it was almost three in the morning now and it felt like someone was playing a big bass drum behind his eyelids. So he gave Jack what he knew sounded like a lame excuse, a well used get out clause that was code for, 'No sex tonight'.

"I'm tired, Jack, and I've got a headache, maybe tomorrow," Ianto excused, avoiding the hurt look that passed over Jack's face as he slid from the SUV. He went through the motions of pulling the containment box from the boot and taking it into the Hub, but by the time he'd placed the box on the now spare desk he decided that cataloguing it could wait until morning.


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

_"Nothing pains some people more than having to think."_  
Martin Luther King Jr.

A groan escaped Gwen's lips as she came too safely underneath the confines of her duvet, which was half hanging off her side of the bed. Her fringe was, thankfully, blocking out most of the light slipping in through the half closed curtains as she tried to spit some of her hair out her mouth without chewing on it. Her phone was ringing mercilessly on the bedside table, vibrating against the wood as it danced across the tabletop. An uncoordinated hand grasped at it, pressing a random button that thankfully caused it to cease its inane but professional ringtone.

"Hullo?" she managed to mumble between parched lips, cringing at the loudness of her own voice.

"Is it Bank Holiday Monday?" an American accent enquired, far too cheerily and loudly for the time of morning it was. _Shouldn't have finished off that third bottle of wine_, Gwen thought.

"What?" she managed to ask as she blew some of her hair out her face, grateful for the breeze as she clutched the duvet to her bare chest while Rhys gave a grunting snore from somewhere behind her.

"Well, seeing as I'm the only one at the Hub at nine on a Monday morning I figured it must be a holiday of some sort that my team had failed to clue me in on," Jack continued, a note of amusement in his voice. "So what is it then? A holiday only Welsh people can claim on?" Jack prompted after a moment of silence from Gwen's end of the phone.

Gwen was confused, hung-over – _horribly_ hung-over – and apparently late for work. Everything else was going so far over her head it might as well have been on a plane to Magaluf.

"What?" she asked again as she tried to sit further up in the bed and suddenly thought better of it when the room gave a sickening lurch. Jack sighed in reply.

"Are you coming into work sometime today or am I saving the world on my own?" Jack prompted, amusement still in his voice but it was now tinged with exasperation. Gwen wanted to tell him to sod the world today, because Gwen was too hung-over to function, let alone chase aliens, but then she decided she'd feel bad if Jack died again.

"I'll be in in a bit," Gwen replied, blinking to try and bring the clock on the bedside table into focus.

"See you soon, Gwen," Jack replied, voice still full of cheer and just a hint of mocking as he hung up. Gwen let her phone drop on top of the duvet as she rolled over so she was facing Rhys, sprawled face down and naked on his side of the bed, the tiniest corner of the duvet covering his left bum cheek. She watched him softly snuffling into the pillow, a wet patch where he'd drooled all over it. She smirked to herself as her mind turned over the many ways to wake Sleeping Beauty from his slumber.

She slipped from the bed quietly, taking the duvet with her as she walked round the outskirts of the bed, pausing when she reached his side. She pulled the duvet up higher round her, clutching it to her breast with one hand as her other one reached out towards Rhys' arse. As she moved to slap it, Rhys' arm shot out to grab her round the waist, pulling her on top of him in a tangle of limbs and covers. Gwen let out a scream that caused both Gwen and Rhys to cringe at its shrillness.

"No more 3 for 10 quid wine from Tesco, yeah," Gwen offered, kissing Rhys squarely on the lips, hidden in the darkness of their duvet shelter.

"Yeah," Rhys agreed, breathing out in a sigh so that Gwen could smell the remains of last night's lasagne and the cheap plonk from Tesco that Rhys had picked up on the way home from work last Friday. She hoped that if she came across any aliens today they were the friendly, cuddly type.


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_"If a man sits down to think, he is  
immediately asked if has a headache."_  
Ralph Waldo Emerson

One shower, two alka-seltzers and three attempts at trying to put a top on that was clean and Gwen was on her way to work. She realised belatedly that she probably shouldn't be driving since she was almost certainly still over the limit, but Rhys was in no better shape to give her a lift and she couldn't be bothered to call a taxi or wait at the freezing cold bus stop.

As she walked along the decking beside what used to be Cardiff's main dock for the coal trade way back when, she caught sight of Ianto slouching down the stairs from Mermaid Quay, a coffee holder in one hand with three Starbucks cups sitting in it. Ianto still had his coat on. He was hunched over in it and looking about as good as Gwen felt.

"Were you a dirty stop out last night, Mr. Jones?" Gwen asked him as he climbed off the last step beside her, head shooting up, apparently only just noticing her.

"Something like that," Ianto replied half-heartedly as he held out the cup holder, offering her the nearest one. She took it with a grateful smile. "What about you? Late night with Mr. Williams?"

Gwen smirked into her coffee – mocha with a dash of peppermint, topped with whipped cream - as she fished her keys out to open the tourist office for the both of them. Ianto squinted as Gwen automatically reached out to flick the light switch on. A moment later Gwen was squinting herself, shaking her head slightly so her fringe fell over her eyes a little bit more, blocking out some of the light.

"No, me and Rhys were in bed nice and early last night," Gwen answered slyly, punctuating her sentence with a slurp of her coffee. She looked over at Ianto as he leant over the tourist office desk to press the button for the entrance to the Hub, hoping he would reciprocate in sharing details. Not huge details – Gwen didn't really want to know the ins and outs of Ianto and Jack's sex life, it was bad enough that she'd found CCTV footage of them _doing it_ on her desk – just nice hints that things were going well. Ianto didn't say anything though as he followed her through the door into the damp and dark corridor that was a trademark of their underground base.

Ianto was generally a quiet person, yet always full of witty retorts, but this morning he didn't seem like his usual self. It wasn't a hangover that was looming over his head like a lead hat and the dark circles under his eyes didn't seem alcohol induced.

"You okay, Ianto?" Gwen asked just as the lift door opened and the cog door started to roll back, flashing lights and all. Gwen and Ianto shied away from them.

"Fine, Gwen," Ianto replied with a placating smile and Gwen knew better now than to push him.

"I was beginning to suspect you two had stood me up," Jack said as they ascended the stairs up to the desks, which Jack was stood beside. There were matching mounds of paperwork on every available surface.

"It had to happen sometime," Gwen retorted, causing Ianto's lips to quirk slightly. Jack chose to ignore that comment. Ianto offered him the last cup of coffee in the holder, no doubt as a peace offering, which Jack took with a grateful smile. Jack took a slurp as Gwen and Ianto removed their coats, Gwen greeting their fallen team members softly, something that had become a ritual of late.

"We're doing paperwork today, troops," Jack informed them as Ianto hung up his coat on top of Gwen's. She saw Ianto's shoulder's slump slightly, a look of relief flitting over his face. She didn't doubt that she was wearing a similar expression of gratitude that, barring the next apocalypse, she would be spending her day staring at the fine print of some legal jargon she didn't understand. It was the lesser of two evils.

"We've fallen a bit behind with dotting our I's and crossing our T's these last few weeks," Jack informed them. "Although I appreciate, Ianto, that you've tried to keep on top of it, even though you've been out in the field a lot more."

Jack must have caught Ianto scowling at him. Jack was right though, there was only so much one person could do in a day and Gwen really had been trying to pull her weight when it came to paperwork. When home time came and went though and there was nothing more exciting than paperwork going on while there was a gorgeous Welshman waiting at home for her, she couldn't help slipping out when she'd skipped out questions eight through sixteen.

It was probably the reason Ianto was holding himself awkwardly this morning, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. _You can't burn the candle at both ends, you get burnt,_ a phrase her mother had enjoyed telling Gwen at every available opportunity when she'd been working the early shift and still going out on a night with friends.

"So, Gwen, I've got you on all the police liaison forms that need to be finished. Ianto, you're working on those reports that UNIT wanted God knows how many weeks ago now, and I'm going to go make nice with the Home Office." Jack clapped his hands together in a false act of motivation and Gwen and Ianto sluggishly reanimated themselves, shuffling towards their respective desks with an air of resignation.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_"When thought becomes excessively painful,  
action is the finest remedy."_  
Salman Rushdie

Ianto didn't care if paperwork was a blessing in disguise, he still felt bloody awful no matter what he was doing. His computer screen was too bright and the fact that it was refreshing itself every few seconds, the screen flickering slightly under the halogens of the Hub lighting was doing nothing to ease the pressure behind his eyes.

He pressed a palm into his eye socket, rubbing mercilessly, as if he could just get rid of his throbbing headache by sheer force of will. He had offered to go out and forage for lunch, hoping that some fresh air might do him some good. The only thing it had done was add nausea to his list of symptoms as he stood in line at Greggs waiting to be served, the over-powering smell of sweaty builders mixed with cheese and onion pasties doing nothing for his appetite.

He knew caffeine was a bad idea when he had this bad a headache but he needed to look at something other than his increasingly wobbly handwriting and the flickering computer monitor. He brought himself rather unsteadily to his feet, shuffling across the Hub and trying not to stumble into anything, including the floor.

"Coffee?" he asked Gwen in hushed tones as she turned to look at him and his shambling gait.

"Please, Ianto." Gwen smiled at him, watching as he descended the stairs towards the kitchen area of the Hub.

After she'd eaten the pasty that Ianto had gone out to retrieve at lunchtime Gwen almost felt human again. She'd also drunk an excess of water that saw her visiting the ladies far more often than usual. She wondered how Rhys was fairing this morning. Ruth was probably molly coddling him with pastries and cups of sugary tea. Gwen was just thinking of calling Rhys when there was an almighty crash from the kitchen area.

"Ianto?" Gwen called out, peering round the monitor on her desk.

"Ianto? You alright?" Gwen called again as she rose to her feet, realising Ianto was no longer at the coffee machine that was foaming to itself. She frowned as she made her way down the stairs to turn the machine off. As she got close she discovered Ianto slumped on the ground next to a broken mug.

"Jack!" she yelled as she stepped over Ianto's prone form to turn off the coffee machine, noticing he had thrown up in the sink, before she was kneeling down beside him. Her fingers reached out hesitantly to feel for a pulse at Ianto's neck, grateful to find it instantly.

"What's going on?" Jack shouted back as he exited his office, looking about the Hub for the remainder of his team.

"Jack," Gwen yelled again as Ianto groaned. Jack was coming down the stairs two at a time, halting at Ianto's side as he tried to struggle into a sitting position.

"What happened?" Jack demanded as he slid an arm round Ianto's back. Ianto didn't say anything as he lent against Jack, a hand to his head while Gwen grasped at his other hand, kneeling at his side.

"That question was directed towards either of you," Jack said dryly while Ianto tried to pull himself away from Jack's supportive embrace, extracting his hand from Gwen's.

"He just keeled over. He was just making coffee and then there was an almighty crash and when I came to look he was slumped on the floor," said Gwen in a rush of words.

"I'm fine," Ianto protested, pulling himself unsteadily to his feet. He swayed back and forth for a moment, a hand still to his head before Jack grasped his forearms. Jack's eyes searched Ianto's face for a moment, waiting for Ianto to cave, but if anything under Jack's scrutiny Ianto straightened slightly, holding himself a bit taller.

"You can come with me on a Weevil retrieval then," Jack suggested. Gwen shot him a look as Ianto pulled away from Jack for the second time, stumbling towards the stairs. He stopped with one hand on the handrail, steeling himself, and for a moment Jack thought that Ianto would yield, would admit that he wasn't fine and that he'd quite like to go and lie in a darkened room somewhere for the remainder of the day. Jack underestimated Ianto's stubborn streak, though.

"Just give me a minute," Ianto mumbled.

"Jack, he's just-" Gwen started and was then cut off by Jack waving a hand.

"I'll meet you out at the car in five," Jack said in reply to Ianto. Both Gwen and he watched as Ianto struggled up the stairs towards the workstations.

"Jack," Gwen hissed for a second time, rocking forward on her feet like she wanted to go after Ianto.

"I'm taking him home," Jack told her quietly as they watched Ianto rummaging around for his gun and Weevil spray on his desk, his head hanging heavy between his shoulders. Jack watched as Gwen's shoulders relaxed slightly at Jack's admittance. Did she really think he was that much of a slave driver or that oblivious that he didn't notice Ianto was in a serious amount of pain? Jack frowned.

"What do you think's wrong with him?" Gwen asked in hushed tones, bending down to start picking up the bits of mug that Ianto had broken when he glanced their way.

"Most likely a migraine," Jack replied quietly as he moved away from Gwen towards his office to retrieve his coat and gun.

"We'll keep in touch, let us know if you need help with anything."

Gwen dumped the pieces of crockery in the kitchen sink, turning the tap on to wash away the remainder of bile and liquid that was lurking in the bottom. She glanced up as the lights above the cog door flashed, the two men leaving, Ianto's eyes almost slits as Jack guided him with a hand at the small of his back.

_Sometimes, Ianto Jones, you're too bloody stubborn for your own good._

* * *

Ianto should really have realised something was amiss when they were driving through the nicer parts of Cardiff, avoiding all the major Weevil stomping grounds. Ianto, however, was preoccupied with forcing the nauseous feeling back down in his stomach as the sun glared in through the windscreen, causing Ianto to squint through his eyelashes at the passing pedestrians. As it was, Ianto didn't realise he'd been had until Jack was pulling up outside his front door.

"Right," Jack said quietly, but authoritatively enough for Ianto to know that this conversation was going to go a way Ianto didn't like, and Jack was most likely going to pull both the boss and the lover card on him.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or am I going to have to threaten you with dance music?" Jack asked. Despite himself, Ianto's eyebrow rose into his hairline.

"Dance music?" Ianto questioned, his voice a husky whisper. Jack's hand reached out for the radio, seeing Ianto's question for what it really was – a stalling tactic.

"Okay," Ianto interjected quickly as Jack's fingers made to depress the on button. "Okay," Ianto repeated, quieter and more defeated the second time.

"I feel like shit okay, please put me to bed and leave me to die in peace," Ianto groaned, a hand that had been hovering halfway between his head and his lap finally moving up to cover half his face, his eyes closing in defeat.

"Happy?" Ianto groused, not opening his eyes. He couldn't bear to see the smug look on Jack's face at this moment in time. It would be too much to tolerate.

"No," Jack replied quietly and Ianto started slightly when he felt Jack's hand at the side of his head, a calloused thumb sweeping over his cheek before there were fingers running soothingly through his hair. "Why would I be happy when you're in pain, Ianto?"

Ianto didn't reply, just lifted his head slightly, eyes barely opening so he could take in the concerned crease of Jack's brow.

"Migraine?" Jack asked softly, his fingers now kneading at the knotted muscles at the back of Ianto's neck.

"Yeah." Ianto breathed out a long sigh, leaning into Jack's touch and closing his eyes again.

"And here I was thinking it was a rouse to get out of sex," Jack joked before his fingers and his presence were gone from the car. Ianto keenly felt their loss, letting out a mournful sigh before Jack was pulling open the passenger door, coaxing Ianto from the vehicle with a hand round his upper arm.

Ianto would have found the strength to protest as Jack exchanged his suit for a pair of well worn pyjamas had he not been expending so much effort on keeping himself from throwing up. As it was, he lay on the bed while Jack shut all the curtains in his flat and rummaged around in the bathroom for painkillers.

Ianto managed a mumble of assent at some of the things Jack said to him before leaving, but he wasn't really listening. Ianto only had one thought at that moment in time.

Sleep.


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

_"I never think of the future – it comes soon enough."_  
Albert Einstein

Jack wasn't surprised when they didn't hear anything from Ianto for the rest of the day. Gwen suggested going round just before she left that evening, but Jack had been quick to put a stop to that. If he knew Ianto – and he was pretty sure that he knew the man fairly well now – then he wouldn't appreciate Gwen offering him cups of tea, blankets and chicken soup, however well meant they were. No, he'd left Ianto with a packet of painkillers and a glass of water, curled up under his duvet, which would be enough.

It didn't mean Jack wasn't worried about him. They'd all been overworked recently, too much to do and not enough people to do it. He knew as well as the next person that they were understaffed, but it felt like a cardinal sin to admit it. He didn't want to replace Tosh and Owen, not because they didn't need a doctor or a technician, but because replacing them would be like admitting they were gone, or worse – that they were never there.

Jack looked up from the file he was perusing about people going missing in the morgue of St. Helen's when the lights above the cog door started flashing. Jack glanced at the clock on his desk and smiled. He could set his watch by Ianto Jones. And there he was, removing his coat as he stepped through the cog door, a pinstriped suit with a red shirt and waistcoat, looking good enough to eat.

Jack scooted back in his chair slightly so he could follow Ianto up the stairs with his eyes - eyes that were now watching pinstriped trousers stretched tight over the young man's assets. Jack had once asked Ianto why he still wore the suits to work when it was obvious that he was no longer trying to seduce the boss - at that moment in time both of them had been lying stark bollock naked on Jack's camp bed. Ianto had replied with a question of his own, 'Why do you still wear a coat that went out of fashion in the 40's?' That had been enough of an answer for Jack.

Jack couldn't help licking his lips now as he watched Ianto stand in front of the coffee machine, brewing the first – but certainly not the last – cup of the day. The first cup always tasted the best, but that was usually because it was preceded by a kiss if Jack was lucky enough. Jack smiled to himself as he slid out his chair and sauntered out of his office, hands in his pockets. Ianto was whistling to himself as he turned buttons and pulled on levers.

"You're in a better mood this morning," Jack commented as he descended the stairs towards the small kitchen area. Ianto glanced over his shoulder at Jack, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Twelve hours sleep and industrial strength painkillers will do that to a person," Ianto replied as he pulled Jack's mug down from the top of the machine.

"Maybe you should try it more often," Jack coaxed, hands grabbing at the side of Ianto's waist as he moved in to kiss the side of Ianto's neck. Ianto ducked out the way, moving past Jack towards the fridge where he retrieved the milk. When Ianto turned back again Jack was already there, trying to move in for another kiss. Ianto's hand shot up to press against Jack's chest, keeping him at arm's length.

"Not at work," Ianto told him firmly, moving past Jack again and back to the machine. Jack frowned after him.

"Gwen's not in yet you know," Jack commented, shoving his hands back in his pockets but moving towards Ianto with intent. "You're not really going to deprive me of my morning treat are you, Ianto?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows as a sultry smile crept onto his lips. Jack was surprised when Ianto turned towards him, a scowl on his features, before he shoved Jack's freshly made brew towards his chest, grasping at his own mug before sweeping away towards the cells, presumably to feed the Weevils.

Jack watched him go, curious as to Ianto's mood. Jack knew Ianto got funny about public displays of affection sometimes, but there wasn't anyone in the Hub this early and it wasn't as if Gwen hadn't caught them doing rather more unsavoury things than a simple kiss before now. Jack sighed before taking a long sip of his coffee, wondering when it had all gotten so complicated.


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_"Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings  
– always darker, emptier and simpler."_  
Friedrich Nietzsche

"Morning, Ianto," Gwen sang as she came up behind Ianto while he was busy spooling through the RSS feed for that morning's news reports. On another screen to the side of him the Hub's search engine was running through the police database and the emergency services call listings from the previous night, searching for anything out of the ordinary that would ring alarm bells for Team Torchwood.

"Feeling better this morning?" Gwen asked as she slipped her jacket from her shoulders and hung it over Ianto's on the coat rack.

"Much better, thank you, Gwen," Ianto replied with such cheer that Gwen stopped half way to her desk and turned back to him.

"What's put the spring in your step this morning?" Gwen questioned, a smile playing at the corner of her lips - but not the same smile that Ianto had on his face - as she glanced towards Jack's office where the Captain was sitting at his desk, perusing some files on it with a coffee cup in hand.

"Frankly, that's none of your business," Ianto replied rather curtly, not even bothering to grace her with a look. Gwen stood frozen for a moment in the middle of the Hub, halfway between the coat stand and her desk, staring at the side of Ianto's head as he studiously ignored her.

"Sorry, love, I was just curious," Gwen managed after a moment.

"No," Ianto said, turning to look at her, "you were being nosy, because you wanted to know if Jack and I had been up to anything remotely couple-y in your absence that you could coo over."

Gwen was stunned into silence, rooted to the spot like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming train at Ianto's rather harsh words.

"Look, I wasn't being nosy, Ianto," Gwen started, suddenly on the defensive, but Ianto was talking over her.

"Just because you want to proclaim to the world how wonderful your relationship with Rhys is now that you've stopped sleeping around with staff members - and frankly the only reason I think that stopped was due to one of the party being deceased - it still doesn't give you the right to worm every little sordid detail of mine and Jack's sex life out of me." Ianto's voice was so calm and conversational that Gwen, for a moment, thought she had been mistaken about the words that were coming from him. She'd never known Ianto be so callous with her - or anyone else for that matter.

"I'm sorry, Ianto," Gwen managed to mumble out, cowed somewhat by his words.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got work that needs attending to," Ianto said politely, as if someone had suddenly flicked a switch on his personality, almost like he was re-enacting a scene from Jekyll and Hyde. Before Gwen even had a chance to think of what to say to him Ianto had disappeared out of sight down the corridor that led to the archives. She felt like she'd been slapped in the face with words that stung far more than an open palm.

_She wasn't nosy, was she?_ Gwen knew she could be overly enthusiastic sometimes when it came to Jack and Ianto's relationship, but there had been healthy teasing going on between Gwen and Ianto for months about their other halves – certainly not better halves. Ianto's outburst was out of the blue and ever so slightly uncharacteristic.

"Jack?" Gwen called tentatively as she lurked on the threshold of his office. He looked up at her, a scowl on his face that made Gwen suddenly wonder if she really had been the person in the wrong that morning.

"Not to sound like we're on the school playground," Gwen started as she took a hesitant step over the threshold of his office and realised she already sounded like a whiney teenager. "But does Ianto seem mean to you today?"

Jack seemed to consider her for a moment, placing his pen down on top of the files in front of him.

"He did seem a bit off this morning, sort of distant," Jack mused, considering for a moment before he shook his head. "He certainly wasn't mean though."

"Well he's just read me the riot act for sticking my nose in where it's not wanted," Gwen grumped, folding her arms, almost huffily, over her chest. If she was going to go with the whole playground analogy she might as well go the whole hog.

"It's probably just the after effects of yesterday's headache," Jack said, blatantly making excuses for Ianto now as he plucked his pen back up in his hand. "He's bound to be a bit grumpy today."

"Mmm, maybe." Gwen didn't think what Ianto had said to her could be excused for being grumpy due to yesterday's headache. The words had been too specific and the tone too biting for it be conjured out of a bad mood. She'd let it slide for now. They'd been through too much together for her to remain up in arms about a few snide comments.

* * *

Neither Jack nor Gwen saw much of Ianto for the rest of the morning and the brief glimpses they did catch of the young man didn't really wash over well. Jack was reprimanded for losing important files - nothing really out of the ordinary there but Ianto's words had been sharp and condescending rather than teasing and accusatory. When Gwen looked on the verge of tears after leaving crumbs from a chocolate digestive behind, Jack decided he needed to confront Ianto.

Jack found Ianto rummaging through a box of what appeared to be wires in the lower level archives. His suit jacket was missing and his sleeves were rolled up, cufflinks lying on a shelf and an intense look of concentration on his face.

"Up to anything interesting?" Jack asked, idly picking up a motherboard that was lying on the side next to a clutch of red wires.

"Nothing that concerns you, Sir," Ianto replied curtly as he plucked the motherboard from Jack's hand, placing it in an unmarked box that was resting on the floor by Ianto's foot.

"Sir, is it?" Jack asked, sounding faintly amused as he folded his arms over his chest. "Must be serious," Jack muttered, leaning on the edge of the table so that Ianto couldn't get back into his box that he'd been busy ferreting through without moving Jack.

"Sir?" Ianto enquired, turning his back on Jack to look through another box that was still on the shelf.

"Ianto." His name came from Jack's lips as both a warning and placating at the same time. Ianto didn't say anything or even turn around. Jack sighed.

"Ianto, if there's something the matter, whatever it is," Jack tried to say, words coming out slowly and calmly as he unfolded his arms, resting them on the desk beside his hips.

"If I have a problem in my trousers then you'll be the first person who I'll come to," Ianto cut across Jack. Jack fought to keep the smile off his face.

"I don't doubt it." He could keep the smile down but apparently not the witty retort.

"But that's not what I'm talking about, Ianto. Whatever's up, you know you can talk to me about it, don't you?" Jack pressed, watching and waiting. For just a brief moment Ianto's shoulders slumped forward and his hands stilled and Jack thought that Ianto was going to tell him why he was in such a foul mood. He didn't.

"Why would I tell you anything when you never share anything with me?" Ianto ground out, voice gravelly as he refused to turn and look at Jack. Jack's body language changed, his arms crossing over his chest again as he leant off of the table, bringing himself back to his full height. Jack was immediately on the defensive.

"Ianto, there's too much that-" Jack didn't get the end of his sentence out before Ianto wheeled round on his heels, with a look that could kill.

"There's always too much to tell, but there's never enough time, is there?" Ianto muttered, voice dangerously low. "What does it matter anyway?" Ianto pressed on, not waiting for a reply from Jack, who was stunned into silence. "It's not as if we're a couple," Ianto spat, picking up the box that was resting on the floor and pushing past Jack to head towards the stairs. Jack wasn't shocked enough to not grab Ianto by the arm as he passed, pulling him back, grip tight enough to leave fingerprints on Ianto's upper arm.

"Is this what this is about? You and me?" Jack asked, voice tinted with confusion.

Ianto laughed, a cruel and twisted noise that didn't sound right coming from Ianto's cupid shaped lips. "Not everything is about you, Jack." Ianto all but spat Jack's name before he yanked his arm from Jack's grip, disappearing up the stairs and out of the archives, leaving Jack behind with the feeling that there was something monstrously wrong with Ianto.


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

_"Far more numerous are those as such;  
who think too little and talk too much."_  
John Dryden

Gwen opened her mouth as Ianto donned his jacket and checked if he had his wallet on him. She'd been going to ask him if he was heading out for lunch and if she could join him, but suddenly decided if he was still in that foul mood she didn't particularly want to exchange insults over sandwiches and inferior cups of coffee. She watched him leaving the Hub with a box under his arm out of the corner of her eye, no indication as to where he was going or when he'd be back. To be perfectly honest, Gwen found she didn't particularly care at that moment in time. She was unconsciously harbouring a grudge now.

Jack emerged out of the corridor to the lower archives at that moment, looking like someone had killed his puppy. He trudged up the stairs towards his office, hands shoved deep into his pockets and a morose look on his face. Something wasn't right here.

"That's it," Gwen announced, coming into Jack's office behind him, stopping short of his desk and placing her hands on her hips in a pose of pro-active action.

"I don't care if his head is about to fall off, he doesn't get the right to treat us like this," Gwen said, raising her chin defiantly, as if daring Jack to challenge her. Jack blinked a couple of times at Gwen's sudden onslaught of anger that was being directed his way.

"Well?" Gwen snapped when Jack didn't immediately say anything.

"What?"

"What are we going to do about it?" Gwen asked, shoulders slumping slightly as she removed her hands from her hips.

"I thought you had a plan, what with all the macho posing," Jack teased, sitting down at his desk and crossing his legs at the ankles. Gwen sat on the corner of the desk that was a favourite perch of Ianto's.

"I've seen Ianto in a bad mood, he does sulky and introverted, not outwardly mean," Gwen confessed as she tugged on the sleeves of her top.

"No, the last time Ianto was like this, well-" Jack looked away from Gwen as he put a finger to his lips in thought.

"I think it was well placed," Gwen commented. Jack gave a little hum of agreement.

"He knows to hit where it hurts," Jack added after a moment, a faraway look in his eyes. Gwen assumed he was remembering one of the many visits he had paid Ianto during his forced 'holiday'. Tosh had called it compassionate leave whereas Owen had said Jack was just biding his time until Ianto was more mentally stable before scoffing that that would never happen. Jack had called it what it was – suspension. She remembered him coming back a couple of times, shame faced and eyes red-ringed like he'd been sharing in Ianto's pain with a cathartic outpouring of sins.

"Can you think if anything has happened to him recently? Anything that you've done? Or we've done?" Gwen added the 'we' after Jack's head shot up as if he'd been caught in the act.

"He was fine the other night before-" Jack stopped mid sentence as his eyes slipped away from Gwen to look out into the rest of the Hub, his eyes catching sight of the corner of the containment box that was still sitting on the cluttered desk.

"Before?" Gwen prompted.

"The other night after you'd gone home Ianto and I were still in the Hub." A cheeky smile flitted across Jack's face for a moment and Gwen had to refrain from rolling her eyes. _God forbid Jack and Ianto would conventionally have sex in a bed._

"We went out to Penarth to investigate something that came through the Rift and Ianto picked up what he described as a blue marble full of liquid." Jack was rising to his feet now as he moved round his desk. "Then the next day he has a splitting headache and today he's like the Scrooge of Cardiff," Jack said, mulling things over out loud now as he exited his office and moved towards the containment box.

"It just sat here all yesterday; I assumed Ianto was dealing with the paperwork on it. He was probably in too much pain to give it a second glance but now I'm starting to think that there's more to it than meets the eye," Jack suggested, reaching out to open the box. Gwen's hand shot out, pulling Jack's hand back from the box.

"I'm not dealing with the Marley brothers," Gwen warned and Jack let his hands drop back down to his sides.

"No," he conceded, somewhat deflated.

"Maybe we should call Martha? If something's happened to Ianto she's probably more qualified to deal with it," Gwen suggested as Jack continued to stare at the containment box as if hoping it would spontaneously combust. He was so engrossed in his staring match that he jumped slightly when Gwen's phone started ringing.

"Hello?" Gwen questioned as she answered it, moving away from Jack slightly.

"Oh, Hiya, Andy," Gwen said, sounding somewhat resigned.

"What do you mean 'one of ours'?" Gwen questioned, sounding slightly more interested in the conversation.

"Whereabouts?" Gwen asked, reaching over to her desk to scribble down an address on the corner of a take-out menu. It would have taken too long to find the post-it note block underneath all the clutter.

"No, thanks for the heads up," Gwen said, somewhat tightly before shutting her phone over and turning back towards Jack.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jack asked as Gwen pocketed her phone.

"Andy says there's a death up in Penarth that reeks of one of our spooky-doos," Gwen informed him.

"Doesn't happen to be on Pant-y-cylen Road does it?" Jack enquired, and Gwen tried not to laugh at Jack's pronunciation of the Welsh.

"Number 42," Gwen answered, looking down at the take-out menu in her hand.

"Which is right next door to number 44 where Ianto and I were the other night," Jack said, tight-lipped in thought.

"Coincidence?" Gwen asked, a small amount of hope in her voice.

"Unlikely," Jack replied, giving her a withering look. "Go check it out, but be careful," Jack warned, pointing a finger at Gwen.

"What are you going to do?" Gwen inquired as she pulled her jacket from the stand.

"I'm going to go call Martha and then try and figure out how to open this box without becoming Mr. Hyde."  


* * *

When Gwen arrived in the back garden of 42 Pent-y-cylen Road, half of Cardiff's constabulary were already present, tramping down the wet grass into mud. A young constable had answered the door to her, all enthusiasm and nervous energy. It had taken her a moment to convince him of her 'Special Op's' status before he ushered her into the house. She didn't miss the glaring daggers that were being shot her way by an older Police Constable, a look on his face that said he'd had dealings with Torchwood before. She was led past a man sobbing at the kitchen table while another PC tried to calm him with cups of tea.

When Gwen saw the body, dry underneath the makeshift tent, she realised it was going to take a lot more than cups of tea to calm him. The woman was unrecognisable – the only way Gwen knew it had been a woman was due to the painted red nails. Nearby, one of the SoCo lads was picking up a gold earring that was still attached to half an earlobe with a pair of tweezers. Gwen felt sick.

"See, I reckon it were the husband that did it," the young constable was saying, apparently oblivious to the horror surrounding him as Gwen took in the sight of clumps of hair hanging from the washing line.

"Looks like a shotgun," the PC added, missing the fact that one of his colleagues was rolling their eyes behind him.

"I don't think a shotgun could do this much damage," Gwen commented as she bent down, resting on her toes as she got a better look at the...bits. There wasn't really much left of the woman's head, to be honest. There were bits of brain-matter splattered up the fence and spots of blood on the leaves of nearby plants, staining the daisies red. No, a shotgun blew a hole in the back of your head; it didn't blow your whole head up. If Gwen didn't know better she would have said a comical cartoon brain explosion had happened.

She pulled herself back up to her full height, glancing round to find someone retrieving the second earring from the white patio furniture that looked even more garish with blood spattered all over it. She frowned, coming out the tent and crossing over to the fence that separated the small gardens. She could hear a dog barking a couple of gardens away so she stretched up on her tiptoes to see if she could see it over the fence.

Gwen started slightly when the face of a young girl met her, staring up at Gwen as she stood in the next garden over.

"God, you gave me a fright," Gwen said, clutching her chest and laughing nervously. Gracie Jones stared up at Gwen with a blank look on her face that unnerved Gwen slightly. Gwen's gaze moved past Gracie to take in the small crater in the back garden, washing lines hanging lose from the whirly-gig where something had obviously burned through them. No doubt the artefact that Jack and Ianto had retrieved the other night.

"You didn't see anything strange happen this morning did you, sweetheart?" Gwen asked the girl, still on her tiptoes to try and see over the fence. "Apart from all the police, obviously." Gwen gave another nervous laugh. She didn't know why but this girl was making her feel rather uneasy.

There was the blare of a horn from the road outside and Gracie didn't hang around. She shook her head once - not really looking at Gwen, but more like straight through her - before she turned away from the fence and headed back into her house through the kitchen door. Gwen let her go, poor love looked a bit shell shocked, which Gwen couldn't blame her for considering her next-door neighbour had just been found dead and the previous night Jack and Ianto had stormed the house looking for an alien artefact. There was something about her though that didn't quite sit right. She didn't seem to be all there, and then there was Ianto's foul mood and now the woman who had no head. Gwen had worked long enough as a Torchwood operative and previously as a copper to know this was far more than coincidence.


	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

_"When things are bad, we take comfort in the thought  
that they could always be worse. And when they  
are, we find hope in the thought that things  
are so bad they have to get better."_  
Anon

"Define odd," Martha pressed, her voice crackling slightly as Jack strained to hear her down the phone line. He could hear the clack of high heels on linoleum, soldiers barking orders in the background and Jack could imagine her sashaying down a corridor as new recruits stood to attention.

"Well you know Ianto, very quiet and quick to please, and now he's...well, not," Jack replied, rather less than eloquently.

"So you want me to come to Cardiff because Ianto Jones isn't his usual polite self?" Martha asked, something in her voice that suggested Jack was maybe over-reacting slightly. Jack didn't blame her, maybe he was now he thought about it seriously.

"Have you ever thought he's just in a bad mood with you, Jack, because you did something inappropriate in public?" Martha questioned, a tinkling laugh following. Jack actually considered for moment if he had done something that would put Ianto in a foul mood but Jack couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary.

"Not recently," Jack mollified before ploughing on. "Look, Martha, he had a killer of a headache yesterday and then today he comes in all bright and breezy like nothing's happened before shooting Gwen and I out of the water for no reason. This is a grumpy Ianto on a whole other level. Also, Gwen and I have reason to believe that it's somehow connected to an artefact Ianto and I retrieved the other night."

"Hang up the phone." Jack swung round at the voice coming from his office doorway, low and dangerous as Ianto stood there, a murderous look on his face. He could hear Martha talking down the phone again, asking him when Ianto had started acting odd, her interest clearly piqued by the mention of a headache in connection with an alien artefact.

"Put the phone down," Ianto repeated in that gravelly voice that Jack would usually have found sexy if it weren't followed by Ianto pulling a gun from the back of his trousers and aiming it at Jack's head. For a moment Jack lost the use of his voice as he stared, slack jawed, at Ianto. Jack was clearly not over-reacting anymore.

"Ianto, what are you-" Jack didn't finish his sentence before the gun discharged in Ianto's hand and Jack's phone tumbled to the floor, falling from his slack hand and clattering against the concrete.

"Jack?" Martha called, stopping in the middle of the corridor as she listened for any sign of life down the other end of the line.

"Jack, are you there?" Martha called again, more urgently. She was sure the gunshot had been from his end of the phone, not hers. She strained to hear footsteps down the phone before it rustled against fabric and went dead.

Ianto looked down at Jack slumped awkwardly on his office floor, a look of shock on his face as blood dribbled out of the hole in his forehead, congealing in his hair and spreading out like a halo round his head. Ianto gazed into those hollow blue depths for a moment, no spark of life in them now and something akin to remorse flitted over Ianto's features. Just as quickly as it came about it was gone again and Ianto stepped back over the dead body of Captain Jack Harkness, the ring of Jack's mobile phone falling on deaf ears at it echoed in the now still Hub.

Ianto was thoughtful enough to turn the lights off on his way out.


	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

_"Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so."_  
William Shakespeare

Gavin Featherly felt sick. He felt like his Nan had fed him an over-abundance of chocolate at Christmas and he was going to chuck it all back up. He wasn't nervous about what the police were going to do with him – no, being handcuffed and riding in the back of a police car had actually been quite exhilarating. He was more worried about how much his mam would flip her lid when she found out that he, Gavin Featherly – straight A student and serial arse kisser – had been caught shop lifting.

That wasn't the most mortifying thing, though. It was the fact that he'd been caught stealing toothpaste – Sensodyne toothpaste, specially formulated for people with sensitive teeth. He didn't even have sensitive teeth.

He couldn't believe Danny and Tim had abandoned him either. One minute they had been there, walking calmly out of Boots the chemist on Queen Street and the next he hadn't been able to see them for dust.

His first mistake was probably stopping when he was told to. Hardened criminals didn't do what they were told by authority figures. Hardened criminals probably didn't steal toothpaste either, to be honest.

He couldn't believe they'd abandoned him, though. They were supposed to be his mates. Mates didn't leave each other when the going got tough. They stuck together, through thick and thin, going down in a blaze of glory.

Gavin started out of his melancholy stupor as the door of the cell he was in banged open. The arresting police officer was standing there looking stony faced, but he had a companion now. A man in a smart business suit, a clean-shaven face and a look about him that said he had more pressing things to attend to than shoplifting teenagers.

"Are you my lawyer?" Gavin inquired meekly because he'd clearly been watching too much CSI and didn't know what else to say. The man laughed, apparently highly amused by this notion as he stepped into the cell. Gavin bristled slightly.

"I've come to bail you out," the man informed him, placing a hand on Gavin's shoulder. He thought about flinching away from the touch but it suddenly didn't feel like the right thing to do. He had a sudden notion that, no matter what happened now, everything was going to be all right. He would follow this man wherever he would lead and everything would sort itself out. The rest of the occupants in the cells at Cardiff's police headquarters were being released too, following this man in a suit like lambs to the slaughter.

Gavin Featherly didn't think anything of it.


	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

_"Take time to deliberate; but when the time for  
action arrives, stop thinking and go in."_  
Andrew Jackson

The lights were all off when Gwen got back to the Hub. It was slightly unnerving to find the Hub in a state of quiet in the middle of the afternoon.

"Hello?" she called out, moving to switch the lights on, her voice echoing around the cavernous room. She half expected to catch a reconciled Jack and Ianto with their trousers down – and that was not a euphemism.

"Anyone about?" Gwen called out again, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she cautiously ascended the stairs towards her desk.

"Jack? You here?" Gwen pressed, not removing her coat as she crossed to the autopsy stairs, peering down them into the medical bay. Nothing. She jumped as someone let out a gasp of pain and fear, a sharp inhalation that came from Jack's office.

"Jack?" she called again, moving swiftly towards the door, her hand already reaching for the gun in the back of her trousers. Her hand fell away as she caught sight of Jack awkwardly pulling himself into a sitting position. She crossed the expanse of his office, grabbing a hold of his arm and helping him to his feet.

"What happened to you?" Gwen questioned, looking down at the drying blood on the floor of Jack's office.

"Ianto," Jack managed to struggle out as he leant on the edge of his desk, trying to calm his breathing as he regained his bearings.

"Ianto? Is he alright?" Gwen asked, suddenly jumping to conclusions as she searched Jack's office with her eyes, as if she was expecting to find Ianto in a puddle of his own blood.

Jack shook his head once before drawing in a long breath. He raised his head to look Gwen in the eye, a mix of worry and confusion in her own gaze.

"Ianto," Jack said again. "He did this to me. He shot me in the head."

There was a pause before Gwen shook her own head, letting out a slightly hysterical laugh.

"Don't be daft, Jack," Gwen said, laughing again. "Ianto wouldn't shoot you in the head."

"No," Jack agreed. "But whatever has got a hold of him would."

Gwen sobered remarkably quickly, sitting down on the desk beside Jack, both of them looking down rather morbidly at Jack's own dried blood.

"Not Ianto then?" Gwen enquired, a blasé tone to her voice that was nowhere near a reflection of what she was feeling.

"Definitely not Ianto," Jack replied, trying not to move his head too much as it gave a dull throb - hopefully due only to the after-effects of being shot in the head and not the start of an alien trying to take him over.

"So..." Gwen started, as if she was hoping a plan would come tumbling out, fully formed, from her lips. It didn't.

"What happened up at Penarth?" Jack enquired, apparently desperate to avoid the subject of Ianto and the question of what they were going to do with him that hung over them like a black cloud.

"Head was missing from the body," Gwen answered, her voice rather flat and void of emotion.

"Missing? As in taken?" Jack asked, slightly alarmed.

"No." Gwen shook her head slowly. "Missing, as in exploded," Gwen said, her voice quiet. "Jack, what if that's how-" Gwen paused, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "What if-"

"What if that's what's going to happen to Ianto?" Jack finished for her, pushing himself to his feet just as his phone started ringing. He reached for it automatically, answering it while noticing he had several missed calls.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice void of its usual buoyant tone.

"Jack!" Martha sounded panicked. "What happened? Is everything alright?"

"Not really," Jack replied, sitting back down on the desk beside Gwen as he ran a hand down his face. He could still feel the sticky residue of blood in his hair and his shirt was sticking to him as the blood dried.

"What happened?" Martha asked, slightly calmer now. Jack could hear the background of road noise that suggested Martha was now in a car as he gathered his thoughts.

"Ianto shot me in the head. Killed me. Is that odd enough for you?" Jack questioned placidly. There was a pause down the phone line and Gwen shifted awkwardly on the desk next to Jack, biting on her thumbnail in a way that reminded Jack painfully of Ianto.

"Where is he now, Jack?" Martha asked, voice serious and low.

"We don't know," Jack confessed, suddenly worried about any other damage this other Ianto - Jack refused to think of him as his Ianto - was doing in Cardiff. "We'll track him down, though. Like I said before, we think that this is all connected to that artefact Ianto and I brought in the other night. Ianto was the one to retrieve it, I don't know if he touched it or not but I keep thinking Ianto wouldn't be that careless. Also, Gwen's just been on a callout to a body up in Penarth, right next door to where we found the artefact," Jack explained.

"Jack, you need to find him," Martha told Jack urgently. "I'm already on my way to Cardiff so I'll be with you as soon as I can. Is that artefact still in containment?"

"No one's touched it since Ianto retrieved it, and I plan to keep it that way until we can figure out what it is and what it does," Jack told Martha calmly, at complete odds with how he felt.

"Good. Just find Ianto, before..." Martha let her sentence trail off and Jack could hear her sighing down the phone.

"We will. Drive safe, Martha, and we'll see you soon," Jack told her before he hung up. He barely had a chance to open his mouth before Gwen's mobile was ringing.

"Andy, we're a bit busy at the moment-" Gwen started in greeting, but was almost immediately cut off by Andy.

"I don't care if Tom Jones is coming for tea, Gwen, what the bloody hell do your lot think you're playing at?" Andy asked, a cutting tone to his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well one of your lot – that smart fella in a suit - is up here trying to bail out Cardiff's least most wanted," Andy answered curtly.

"Ianto's there?" Gwen asked, standing up quite suddenly from Jack's desk and knocking some folders to the floor. Neither Jack nor Gwen noticed.

"I dunno his name, I just know that he's marshalling petty criminals into the back of an unmarked police van with a young girl helping him," Andy informed her, his tone indicating that he was clearly losing patience on the matter.

"Just don't get in his way, Andy," Gwen warned.

"Bloody typical that is, I phone you to tell you one of your agents has gone rogue and you tell me he's not rogue at all, that he's meant to be doing what he's doing," Andy grumbled.

"No, Andy, he's not supposed to be doing what he's doing, but he's armed and dangerous and I don't want anyone else killed today, so just stay out of his way until I get there," Gwen snapped back, losing her patience with Andy. She didn't know how she'd worked with him for so long.

"Right then," Andy said with a sigh of defeat before Gwen hung up on him.

"Ianto's at the police station stealing criminals," Gwen told Jack. Jack's eyebrow rose slightly. The irony of the situation would be something to laugh at later. Gwen was already moving towards the door of Jack's office.

"I'm going to go and see what he's up to, maybe follow him, while-"

"Hold on, Nancy Drew." Jack put a hand up to stop her in her tracks as he brought himself to his feet. "Whatever has a hold of Ianto has just shot me through the head in cold blood," Jack said, with such a placid air that it unnerved Gwen somewhat.

"Do you really think it's a good idea for you, someone who can die, to go blundering in?" Jack questioned. Gwen frowned, placing her hands on her hips.

"Unlike you, Jack Harkness, I do not blunder. I have enough tact not to get myself shot," Gwen retorted. She wasn't in the mood for arguments now, or to be put down by work colleagues – she'd already had enough of that today. Her stare softened slightly at the remorseful look on Jack's face.

"Look, Jack, if he sees you again he might just shoot you again, and then how are you going to talk sense into him? If there's anything of Ianto in there he can be reasoned with, and sometimes you're a little too blunt for your own good," Gwen tacked on the end, looking nervously away from him.

Jack didn't argue. There was a brief moment where he seemed to process Gwen's reasoning before he gave a slight nod of the head. Gwen turned on her heels, moving out of Jack's office as she pocketed her phone, grabbing her comm. from her desk.

"Make sure you keep in touch at all times," Jack told her quickly, picking up her gun from her desk and checking it was loaded. "If it's you or him..." Jack started as he handed the gun to Gwen, butt first. Gwen stared at him in disbelief for a moment as he returned her gaze. She could see the inner battle between boss and lover going on that made Jack's eyes look glassy, and she didn't know how he did it. She shivered slightly at the memory of a cold warehouse, the metallic smell of blood in the air and Rhys lying in her arms.

"Just be careful," he said softly, before he let go of the gun, allowing Gwen to tuck it into the back of her jeans. She gave him a hesitant smile, nodding slightly before she turned and ran for the cog door.


	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

_"I think it's time to take it back to where we started from."_  
James Morrison

This was not in Police Constable Andrew Davidson's job description. It was bad enough that his partner – beat partner, thank you very much – had upped and left him to join 'Special Op's'. That always got sarcastic quote marks no matter how serious the occasion, because it wasn't bloody Special Op's was it? They weren't even part of the bloody police. Swanning about all over town, tramping over crime scenes and making it their own. Truth be told, Andy was jealous. He wished he'd been the one that had been snapped up by Torchwood and allowed to wander around the streets in civvies all day, flashing the name Torchwood about like he was James Bond.

The bloke from Torchwood that was currently clearing out their cells looked very James Bond, Andy thought. Nice suit and charming persona. He had to have one, considering all the drunk and disorderly's were obeying him without batting an eyelid. He wondered if that was in the job description, "Must be able to charm way out of any situation." Andy wasn't exactly a charmer, but he'd talked his way out of a fair few nights out with Ruth, the mouthy girl who worked in dispatches. Andy shuddered at the thought of another night with her laughing snort.

He felt useless, stood beside the front desk with his arms folded, waiting for Gwen Cooper to show up and bail him out of another mess. But she'd warned him not to act, not to do anything to stop this man in a suit. That wasn't what was holding Andy back, well not entirely. Gwen had some kind of hold over him that Andy hated some days. What was stopping Andy acting more than anything was the fact that every time the man shifted the right way his jacket pulled back to reveal a gun – and Andy's stab vest was still in his locker, not that it would do him much good against bullets.

Andy's frown faded slightly as he saw Gwen coming through the front door of the police station, barely sparing him a glance before she was moving towards her colleague. He observed as Gwen pressed a hand to the man's shoulder, her eyes searching out his, but he seemed almost spaced out. Andy considered the fact that he might be on drugs. Speed, Andy would guess since he seemed to be working on high efficiency.

"Ianto!" The name carried down the corridor towards Andy as he moved away from the desk, uncrossing his arms and cautiously moving towards Gwen and this Ianto. Gwen was trying to hold him in place as she spoke to him, but he was having none of it. Andy was half way down the corridor when it happened so quickly he almost missed it.

Ianto's hand whipped out like lightening, hitting Gwen squarely with a closed fist. She went down like a sack of potatoes and Andy froze for a moment, too shocked to do anything as Ianto stepped over Gwen's fallen form. As he left through the door Andy reanimated himself at the same time as other police officers in the vicinity. A couple of them went after Ianto half-heartedly but Andy could already hear the roar of the police van fading into the distance as he knelt down on the stone floor beside Gwen. He pushed her long black tresses off her face to find that she was out cold.

Andy sighed, rocking back on his heels as he radioed for the police medic. He wished he'd done something now, he wished he'd acted before Gwen turned up, because if he ever got his hands on this Ianto he was getting more than a slap.


	14. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

_"You better think about what you're trying to do to me."_  
Aretha Franklin

Jack sighed as he stood under the spray from the shower, listening to it resonating inside his throbbing head as he pressed his palms flat against the tiled wall in front of him. He let his head fall between his shoulders, hanging heavy. He felt awful.

He tilted his head from left to right, feeling the tense muscles in his neck straining as he opened his eyes to watch pink water swirling away down the drain. Water clouded his vision as he reached a hand up to his head, calloused fingers grazing over the place there should be a bullet hole. A bullet to the brain hurt - it had happened enough times for Jack to know with certainty that it wasn't the most painful way to go, but it was definitely one of the more painful ways to come back. That last bullet, though, hurt far more than any of the other's had.

Ianto's eyes had been void of emotion as he squeezed the trigger and Jack had been unable to do anything but stare in silent shock, because his brain was trying to comprehend the person behind the gun. Jack shook himself, droplets of water smashing against the side of the shower stall before Jack was reaching for the shampoo bottle.

When he was done Jack left the bag of his bloody clothes on the floor of his room and crawled up the ladder back into his office. The copper smell of blood assaulted him as his head broke through the floor into his office. He hesitated again as his gaze flicked towards the dry puddle of blood that had seeped halfway under his desk. He tried to ignore it as he pulled himself the rest of the way out of the hatch, going to the coffee machine to make himself a cup of coffee. It wasn't as good as Ianto's – it never was.

Those hands knew just which way to manipulate the levers, knew the feel of cold metal next to calloused fingers as they squeezed the trigger, not a fraction of remorse in the action. Jack's hand reached out to flick the radio on, the babble of Welsh invading the underground recesses of the Hub, drowning out Jack's thoughts as he collected a mop and bucket to go and clean his own blood from his office floor.

* * *

A seagull cried loudly overhead but Gracie Jones was oblivious to it as she wrapped her arms round herself. Her gaze was drawn to the horizon where a storm was breaking somewhere out in the Bristol Channel.

She felt like her life was slipping through her fingers in that moment, like grains of sand. She tried to cling onto the memory of red patent shoes, her little brother teasing her and her father reprimanding her, but they were fuzzy through the fog of what felt like a deep sleep. She felt like Sleeping Beauty, trapped in a glass coffin, looking out at the world through dead eyes and unable to interact. She was waiting for her Prince Charming to wake her with a kiss. She raised a finger to her lips, running them along the cracked skin, trying to remember the taste of alcopops and drunken snogging in the under-stairs bathroom. It was like it had happened to a different person.

Lightening flashed somewhere in the distance and she knew she was supposed to count, count between the thunder and lightening to tell how close the storm was, but the bright flash of light was like an explosion. Like a head exploding. She could hear the screaming and all those thoughts that hurt so much it felt like your head was going to explode. It hurt just to recall the memory of it – if it was a memory.

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance and Gracie wondered why she was at the docks and how she had got here. Something tugged at the back of her mind like some long forgotten memory. The memory of wet grass and the burn of something hot, like a bonfire, on her cheeks. The clouds drew in and her memory faded with the last vestiges of light sneaking through the clouds. She shuddered in the sudden chill that rent the air before heavy fabric encased her, hands warm on her shoulders.

She turned to the man in the suit that had picked her up that morning; rescued her. He pulled his heavy winter coat further round her and kissed her lovingly on the forehead. All her troubles and fears seemed to slip away like water off a duck's back as he steered her back towards the warehouse. She tried to recall his name – something very Welsh – but it slipped away from her as if it was of little or no consequence. It wasn't really. Not when they had work to do.

"The animals went in two by two-," she sang under her breath.


	15. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

_"All that we are is the result of what we have thought.  
What we think, we become."_  
Buddha

"It's good to see you again, Jack," Martha greeted, stepping into his warm embrace.

"I just wish it were under better circumstances," Jack replied, holding onto Martha longer than was really polite. Martha didn't mind, she had seen the slightly haunted look in Jack's eyes when he'd stepped off the invisible lift to greet her. She could see he was terrified of losing another member of his team so soon after the deaths of Tosh and Owen.

"Have you found Ianto yet?" Martha questioned as she moved back out of his embrace. Jack shook his head once, sadly.

"We had a lead on him a couple of hours ago, he was at the police station bailing out criminals and Gwen went to try and reason with him," Jack told her in hushed tones, as if he was afraid the tourists that were currently gathered on the far side of the Plass snapping the sunset would overhear. They didn't spare Martha or the man in the military coat a glance as they stepped onto the invisible lift.

"I haven't heard from Gwen yet, I sort of," Jack paused, looking away from Martha guiltily, "lost track of time," he mumbled.

Pressed up against him on the lift Martha could detect the intoxicating smell of cleaning products barely disguised by the smell of shower gel. He didn't smell like Jack to her. Martha didn't press the matter, she was too busy looking around the Hub as the lift lowered them gently into the midst of what had once been such a busy hubbub of life. Torchwood Cardiff was a shell of its former glory. She couldn't hear the inane chatter of Owen or the whir of Tosh's computers running endless programmes, there was no smell of rich fresh roasted coffee beans or the cheery disposition that had once kept team Torchwood buoyed above the weight of the world. The air was flat, and Captain Jack Harkness with it.

Jack helped her off with her coat as her eyes caught the containment box on what had previously been Tosh's desk. It looked harmless sitting there, nothing untoward about it at all. There was something else odd about the desk though, something was missing.

"He's taken things from the Hub," Jack said quietly and Martha suddenly realised that the computer terminal and one of the screens was gone. "I don't know how much he's taken or what yet, I haven't had a chance to inventory it all, that's normally _his_ job." There was an unguarded emphasis on the lack of Ianto's name in the sentence. Martha chose to ignore it.

"Have you tried to analyse it yet?" Martha asked, indicating the box.

"We can't get much out of it without opening the box," Jack replied rather dejectedly. "All I've really got are the initial readings to go on. Slight heat signature, no signs of life but a residue of energy that I can't quite pinpoint."

Martha looked thoughtful for a moment. "What about the singularity scalpel?" she asked, turning to look at Jack. He looked confused.

"Well that can see through anything, yes, so we point it at the box so we can see what we're dealing with, try and take some more readings with that thing?" Martha suggested and she could see the brief flash across Jack's face that questioned why he hadn't thought of that sooner.

Within seconds of Martha finishing her sentence, Jack was down in the autopsy bay, flinging open drawers and cursing Ianto for being so tidy. When Owen had been in charge of the medical side of things priceless artefacts were usually left lying around next to half eaten sandwiches and somehow things were a lot easier to find. With Ianto now trying to keep things in order everything was alphabetised and that sometimes made things harder to find.

"Here," Jack proclaimed triumphantly, pulling the singularity scalpel from the drawer it was sharing with the normal scalpels. He thrust it at Martha and hoped she knew how to work it more than he did. The last time he'd tried to use it he'd almost lost his foot and Ianto hadn't been very happy about the hole he'd left behind in his office floor.

"I think I know what it is," Martha said softly as they both stared down at the screen of the singularity scalpel. The blue of the marble-like object seemed to glow brightly on the screen as something swirled enchantingly inside it.

"The Doctor and I came across them once on this planet-" Martha started to explain but Jack immediately looked up from the screen as the alarm above the cog door sounded, distracting him from Martha's explanation. Martha stopped talking, both of them standing to attention as if they were scared Ianto, armed with an arsenal of weapons, was going to come through the door and blow the Hub apart. It was almost as bad.

Gwen whirled in through the doors like a hurricane, sweeping through the Hub and taking her bad mood with her as she ranted. Jack and Martha barely picked up anything she was saying as she passed them by and disappeared down the stairs into the medical bay.

"Gwen?" Jack called after her cautiously, looking to Martha for backup of some sort. Martha shrugged.

"I don't care if he is under the influence of an alien I'm going to bloody kill him!" Gwen shrieked back up to them, the sounds of scalpels clattering against instrument trays, the slamming of drawers and the tinkling of test tubes following. Jack was almost at the top of the stairs when Gwen burst back in with an ice pack now pressed firmly to her left cheek.

"What happened?" Jack ventured, indicating the ice pack, which Gwen immediately pulled away from her face. Jack's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and Martha gave a slight gasp as she moved towards Gwen to get a better look, the doctor in her taking over.

"You know what, I'm not going to kill him, I'm going to put him in with Janet and let her do the job for me," Gwen said.

"Ianto did this to you?" Martha asked and Gwen finally turned to look at her for the first time since she entered the Hub, finally registering her presence.

Gwen smiled tightly. "I didn't get two words out of my mouth before he punched me and, according to Andy, stepped over me and out the police station without a backward glance." Gwen sighed then, her shoulders sagging slightly as she dropped down on to her desk chair. Jack squeezed her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile.

"It's not Ianto, Gwen," Jack said softly and Gwen huffed out an annoyed laugh.

"I know that," she almost whined before pressing the ice pack to her eye again. "Doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt." Jack knew she wasn't talking about the physical hurt, although having said that he was considering keeping Rhys away from Ianto for the foreseeable future in case a fight broke out – when they got him back.

"Why don't I take a look?" Martha coaxed and Gwen's features softened for the first time that day.

"Sorry, Martha, I haven't even said hello," Gwen apologised, giving her a tentative smile as she removed the ice pack again, allowing Martha access to her quickly blackening eye.

"Serves me right for always coming to visit mid-crisis," Martha joked as she pressed gently on Gwen's cheekbone trying to suss out if it was broken or not.

"Any progress on the box?" Gwen asked, flinching as Martha pressed a tender spot. She could see the containment box was still firmly sealed on top of Tosh's old workstation out of the corner of her eye.

"Martha was just about to regal me chapter and verse about it," Jack butted in as Martha withdrew her hands from Gwen's cheek, Gwen replacing them with the ice pack once again.

Martha gave her diagnosis. "A black eye and a bruised ego. You'll be fine." She turned back to include Jack in the conversation now. "Which is more than I can say for Ianto."

Gwen and Jack both turned to look at Martha sharply at the utterance of those words. Martha loathed being the bearer of bad news, but, unfortunately, it was a job hazard.

"It's a thought bubble," Martha said after a pause, picking the singularity scalpel back up so they could see through the containment box again to the seemingly harmless blue marble. Gwen got up from her seat to take a look at it for the first time while Jack peered over her shoulder.

"They're usually dealt on the black market. The Doctor and I saw them once on this planet that," Martha looked sideways at Jack, "well you wouldn't have been out of place." A smirk flitted across Jack's face despite the circumstances and Martha rolled her eyes.

"You pick them up and a thought pops into your head fully formed, an idea that you didn't previously have. They're usually sold to partners that are looking for a little more excitement in the bedroom department." Martha glimpsed Jack struggling with the thoughts in his head for a moment and Martha wondered how good a price Jack would get for _his_ thoughts on the black market.

"They sound innocent enough," Gwen commented, her eyes still on the screen of the singularity scalpel, watching the contents swirling rhythmically in the containment box.

"They are mostly, but the Doctor told me that sometimes you get a bad thought, like a rotten egg in a good dozen, only difference is you can't smell it," said Martha.

"So someone picks up a bad thought, and what, goes on a mass murdering rampage?" Jack suggested, trying for flippant and falling short.

"Sometimes," Martha replied solemnly, finally turning to look at Jack and allowing the view screen to shift away from the thought bubble.

"So Ianto's thought was to be mean to us and steal half of Cardiff's petty criminals?" Gwen asked.

Martha shrugged. "I can't say what Ianto's thought was, only Ianto knows that, but I know he won't stop until he's fulfilled his idea."

"Then what?" Gwen asked, looking suddenly pained. "That woman that I went to see up in Penarth. There was nothing-" Gwen's voice broke off in a hoarse whisper and Jack put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance.

"There was a body up in Penarth, the head was completely gone. Exploded," Jack told Martha solemnly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happens after the thought's been fulfilled. The Doctor never said. Maybe she tried to fight the thought, maybe there were too many thoughts in her head and she couldn't cope." Martha stopped herself from making up a third maybe. They couldn't deal in maybes now. They needed hard facts if they were going to save Ianto.

"What else do you know about these thought bubbles?" Jack asked, letting Gwen go as she slumped back into a desk chair again.

"Not much," Martha confessed, racking her brains to try and remember what else the Doctor had told her. It had been a passing conversation that now felt like a lifetime ago to Martha. Her eyes raked over the half-empty workstation as if seeking out an answer in the vicinity. Her gaze fell on the miniature cactus perched on the edge of the desk, almost hidden by a file of manila folders and something sparked.

"They come from an alien. These thought bubbles are produced by an alien and harvested for the black market, that's why they're sold on it. It's illegal to keep these aliens in captivity and they have to drug them up in order to keep the thoughts happy, keep them producing," Martha explained with some triumph.

"Well that would make me angry enough to have a bad thought every once in a while," Jack commented, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"So Ianto has got a bad thought in his head, that isn't his own, that came from an alien who could now be using Ianto to escape?" Gwen sounded out the last word like she was still processing the thought herself. Jack nodded slowly in agreement.

"The Rift won't be helping either," Jack commented, as his gaze flicked back to stare at the containment box. "Thoughts are energy, so the energy from the Rift will be amplifying them, making what were once thoughts of stealing candy from a baby into-" Jack struggled for a suitable analogy.

"Stealing babies?" Gwen suggested helpfully.

"And if Ianto's got a bad thought then..." Martha trailed off, looking up almost apologetically at Jack.

"We need to find Ianto now," Jack stated, his eyes hardening like steel. "Gwen, see if you can get a lead on that van he took the criminals off in," Jack suggested. Gwen nodded before moving over to her workstation and picking up the phone, no doubt to call Andy.

"Martha," Jack said, turning round to face Martha. "We need to figure out a way to kill a thought without killing Ianto."

Martha gave Jack a blank look. Parasites, viruses, antibodies of some form or other she could probably tell you off the top of her head how to kill them, but a thought? That was beyond even her expertise.

"I wouldn't even know where to start," Martha confessed.

"You're brilliant, Martha Jones," Jack said grasping her forearms in his large hands. "If anyone can do this, it's you." Jack held Martha's gaze for what felt like a lifetime, imploring her to find a way to save Ianto. She didn't have the heart to tell him a second time that she had no clue.


	16. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

_"Think left and think right and think low and think high.  
Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!" _  
Dr. Seuss

Ianto felt disconnected. From everything.

He was staring at the screen attached to Tosh's old workstation only it wasn't where it was supposed to be. He knew that it wasn't where it was supposed to be, he just couldn't remember where or why it wasn't there – wherever there was.

He was scared too, which wasn't really anything new in his line of work. He frowned as he looked down at his suit, trying to remember his line of work as his head gave a dull throb. Civil servant. No, that was a lie he'd told his sister. Her name evaded him, though.

He blinked before he looked back up at the post-it note that was attached to the monitor. It read _'Owen's death day, Myfanwy's birthday and May the force be with you'_ in Tosh's fluid handwriting. He knew it was Tosh's reminder to herself, knew it was the code to the secure archives for that month: 137845. He knew that with absolute certainty but not through any connection with the clue's Tosh had given herself. They didn't mean anything to him, nothing at all. And that was what terrified him.

The brain is known for making connections - that's how the brain works - one connection after another to solve the puzzle, the problem, to keep the person alive. One thought always leads to another thought and the brain is never really off. If the brain's not making connections it's dead. Ianto knew he wasn't dead, but he just couldn't make the connection, couldn't feel the warmth and love and loss that he knew he should feel when he thought of Tosh. He couldn't remember why Owen had more than one death day, nor recall how Myfanwy had come to have a birthday. He couldn't even remember the inside joke of 'May the force be with you'.

Ianto could feel his chest tightening, the signs of a panic attack coming on, something he was all to familiar with as of late, but he'd become too used to riding them out, distracting himself until they passed because he usually didn't have time to fall apart when they grabbed hold of him. Yet, he suddenly couldn't remember any of his distraction techniques and that increased the panic tenfold. Everything was slipping away from him like a wet fish and it terrified him. He could feel his breaths coming in short sharp gasps before someone bumped into him without an apology.

Every worry and disjointed thought faded away like background noise as Ianto suddenly had an idea. He started humming to himself as he went back to tapping away at the keyboard before him, oblivious to Tosh's post-it note detaching and fluttering to the concrete floor of the warehouse.


	17. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

_"**meddwl** v to think."_

"Hiya, love," Rhys greeted cheerily, tucking the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he continued to try and unlock the door with one hand, 'three for ten quid' bottles of wine clanging inside the bag dangling from his wrist – Rhys had always been weak willed when it came to alcohol.

"Hi, sweetheart." Gwen sounded tired to Rhys' ears, which was nothing new considering the job she did. Rhys had found himself feeling guilty on more than one occasion, moaning about having to drive all the way to Portmadog and back in a day when Gwen had probably been to Mars and back.

"I just thought I'd let you know I probably won't be back tonight," Gwen said, sounding highly apologetic. It was a tone Gwen used far more often than necessary nowadays, old habits died hard though.

"I thought as much," Rhys replied as he dumped the Tesco bag on the sofa and tried to shrug out of his coat one handed.

"Look, Rhys." Gwen sighed, obviously gearing up for another apology, clearly not in the mood to placate her husband at this moment in time, because she had far more important things to attend too. For once, though, Gwen had got the wrong end of the stick.

"No, love," Rhys interrupted. He too was tired and not in the mood for an argument that could be avoided. "It's just when I saw Ianto earlier on I figured it would be a late one, what with all that sorting you had to do."

There was a pause down the phone and Rhys was suddenly unsure about whether he'd said more than he should have over the phone, concerned that someone was listening in who shouldn't be.

"Ianto?" Gwen questioned, the name sounding foreign in her mouth, like she had forgotten who he was. Rhys was unnerved for a moment – Gwen had told him about retcon but Gwen was soon babbling quickly, asking questions of him that sounded downright bizarre.

"Are you alright? Nothing happened did it? Ianto didn't hurt you did he?"

Rhys' jacket was hanging off one shoulder as he stared at the picture on the table beside the one of Gwen and he at the top of the Eiffel Tower. It captured Gwen and Ianto squashed into the frame like there wasn't enough room for both of them to be contained within the photograph. Both of them were sporting rare easy-going smiles that lit up their faces, the exertion of dancing together flushed on their cheeks as a rainbow of colour from the DJ booth lit up the background. Butter wouldn't melt in either of their mouths.

"Hurt me?" Rhys asked eventually, the incredulity in his voice blatant. "He took delivery of scrap metal. He didn't clock me on the head with any of it by accident if that's what you mean."

"Scrap metal?"

"Aye, last minute delivery down to the old docks in Roath. I recognised Ianto's name on the delivery sheet, thought I might get to see my wife, but he said you were off picking up something else. Is everything alright?" Rhys sounded concerned now because he could hear Gwen muttering something over her shoulder, apparently including Jack in the conversation, which was never good as far as Rhys was concerned.

Gwen chose to ignore her husband's concern. "Did he say anything else to you?"

"Ianto? No, not much. He seemed a bit distracted to be honest with you, love."

"Rhys," Jack's voice came out of nowhere, and Rhys realised he must have been put on loudspeaker some time ago. "What's the address that you met Ianto at?" Rhys could hear the no nonsense tone to Jack's voice that led Rhys to believe that Ianto was going to be in serious trouble when Gwen and Jack caught up to him. It suddenly made Rhys question whether Ianto had been himself when he spoke to him earlier on as he reeled off the address of the place. It would be unlike Ianto to incur the wrath of Jack Harkness readily.

There was the scrabbling of paper and the scrape of metal on metal in Rhys' ear, and he was suddenly worried he was going to be hung up on now he'd served his purpose. "Gwen?"

"If Ianto calls you for another delivery or anything don't take it, please," Gwen implored, almost begging. "Just call me."

"I will do," Rhys reassured. Rhys knew better than to ask, but he couldn't help himself. "Is Ianto alright though?"

"He'll be fine," Gwen reassured with false cheer that Rhys could detect, even down the phone. "I'll tell you about it when I get home." There was a slight pause, like Gwen wanted to tell Rhys when that would be, but she wouldn't make promises she couldn't keep. "Love you."

"I love you too," Rhys found himself saying to the dial tone. Rhys had a feeling that Gwen would thank him for stopping off at Tesco when she eventually got home.


	18. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

_"I was much further out than you thought  
And not waving but drowning."_  
Stevie Smith

"This is the address Rhys gave us."

Jack, Gwen and Martha were staring out at the bleak side of a warehouse that had no doubt once been used in the coal trade. Now it looked like it was waiting for one heavy gust of wind to come up the Bristol Channel and blow it over. Sheet metal was hanging loose and clanging loudly at the side of the building; flat tyres lay abandoned by the closed door, a padlock firmly in place, under the illusion that there was still something of value inside the storage facility. There was no sign that the warehouse was occupied by anything other than the seagulls that were currently circling high above, their loud squawks carrying down and penetrating to the interior of the SUV.

All three faces were turned towards the door, watching and waiting as if trying to decide who was going to make the first move, a part of them scared of the consequences. Jack, as usual, took charge.

"Stun before we shoot," Jack said as he reached across Gwen and pulled open the glove box, pulling out two stun guns and handing them to Martha and Gwen. "We don't know how many other civilians are in there and we don't know what's going on in there. We're going in blind, so be careful," Jack intoned, his eyes flicking briefly to Martha, like he was carrying on the conversation with just her, allowing Gwen to feel suddenly out the loop for a split second before they were all getting out the car and striding purposefully towards the warehouse.

They split up under Jack's silent instructions, meeting up at the only available point of access, which was through an open door in the loading bay. As Gwen followed behind Jack she couldn't help but think that she was being lured in like a lamb to the slaughter. The last time she'd been in a warehouse she'd had to dig her friends out from the rubble, and the time before that her husband had been shot. She cautiously continued behind Jack with a sense of foreboding that soon turned into awe as the warehouse opened up to reveal a half-built spaceship.

It was like nothing she'd seen before, it was almost conventional in its geometric designs, looking like a badly made ship from Star Trek or some B movie that had had it's budget cut. A breathy oh-my-god passed her lips.

"It's a missionary ship," Jack said matter-of-factly, moving towards the ship as he holstered his gun, reaching out to touch one of the panels that was hanging loose, peering in at the wiring. He recognised the motherboard Ianto had taken off of him only this morning and felt a stab of guilt at having underestimated Ianto for so long.

Jack jumped, spinning round as someone rounded the ship heading towards them. His hand immediately went for his Webley, pulling it out even as Gwen and Martha pulled him back into the shadows. The boy – who couldn't have been any older than sixteen - seemed oblivious as he passed by their hiding place and continued on to a panel further down the ship, starting to fiddle with some of the wires there. A moment passed before someone else joined him. This man looked like a chronic drunk, scraggly beard and stained clothes accompanied by a haggard face that was currently lacking in any emotive capabilities.

"Our criminals?" Jack whispered in Gwen's direction. She nodded, but Jack soon realised it wasn't in reply, she was indicating to something behind the stack of crates they were currently using as a shield. Jack turned his head to look and glimpsed the cut of an all too familiar suit. Jack felt his hackles rise as he watched Ianto getting a little too familiar with another recognisable face - Gracie Jones.

"What are they doing?" Martha hissed, craning round Jack to try and get a better look. Gracie and Ianto looked like they'd just done the weekly shop and were now packing it into boxes.

"Noah's Ark," Jack voiced. Gwen and Martha both turned to look at him in confusion.

"They're building Noah's Ark, packing it up with two of everything to colonize a new world to no doubt sell on the black market," Jack clarified, finally tearing his gaze away from Ianto and Gracie to look at Martha and Gwen. "Why is it that everyone thinks they can solve everything by doing unto others what's been done unto them?" It was clear it was a rhetorical question because Jack was already stepping out from behind the crates, moving towards Ianto before Gwen or Martha could protest.

"This stops now," Jack said with an air of authority that he clearly didn't possess at the moment, and if the look on Ianto's face was anything to go by, he undoubtedly knew it. Ianto sighed, rolling his eyes, causing Jack to falter for a moment because it was such a characteristic thing for his Ianto to do.

"Very..." Ianto seemed to struggle for the right word for a moment. "Heroic." The tone of voice evidently stated what Ianto thought of heroes. "Perhaps you can stand on a roof brooding when this is all over and done with."

"This stops now," Jack repeated, voice dangerously low.

"Yes, you've already said that," Ianto said in a bored voice. "I'm confused as to what you wish to stop, though."

"I want you to stop speaking to me through Ianto. Show yourself!" Jack yelled. Ianto smiled in reply, an amused expression on his face.

"And how do I do that when you cannot see a thought?"


	19. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

_"Cogito Ergo Sum."_  
Rene Descartes

"You must have come from somewhere?" Gwen demanded, seeing Jack falter. Ianto turned to look at her, and Gwen could see now that this was not their Ianto. He had a cruel look on his features that sat uneasy on his face. She shivered at the memory the Cyberman incident.

Everyone was silent for a moment before Jack was pushing past Gracie and Ianto to get to the interior of the ship. Gwen cried out in confusion, Martha in alarm, as Ianto went after him and rugby tackled Jack round the waist so they both ended up in a tangle of limbs on the floor beside the entrance to the ship. They struggled against each other, throwing wild punches that landed hard enough to leave bruises. Gwen felt like a mother watching her two sons fight over the last Action Man in the shop, unable to do anything but scream at them before they both tumbled inside the hull of the ship and the fighting stopped.

Jack's eyes were staring past Ianto's head where he had Ianto in a choke-hold, half sat on top of him in what would usually be considered a play fight, a struggle for dominance on top of twisted sheets that was accompanied by the sound of laughter. None of that was present now as Jack stared up at a swirling gas that seemed to be contained within itself, neither glass nor bars seemed to hold it as it turned in circles of sparkling colours. Jack felt like he was looking into the heart of a galaxy that was both captivating in its beauty and horrifying in its nature.

"She thought you into existence," Jack whispered quite suddenly, pulling himself to his feet before he was looking between Gracie, Ianto and the alien, or thought, because that's all it really was and all it ever really had been until Gracie Jones had happened to stumble across it.

Gwen and Martha were now standing in the doorway behind Gracie, staring in at the scene before them as Ianto brought himself to his feet, tugging his tie and waistcoat straight.

"I was just an idea until she thought of me. Picked me up in her back garden and kept me safe until this," Ianto indicated himself as he spoke, "came by me and provided me with me with such delicious thoughts that I didn't think I'd ever run out. But just in case I did he had an idea that would see to it that we would never run out of thoughts."

"You feed on thoughts." It wasn't a question that curled from Jack's quivering lips. Ianto licked his lips and the gas-cloud beside him pulsed in what could only be pleasure, a hungry look crossing Ianto's face that Jack knew only too well.

"We create thoughts, are made of thoughts, feed on thoughts. We're just like you."

"You're nothing like us," Jack snarled, taking a step forward, fists clenched at his side like he was going to hit Ianto again.

"No, your thoughts are so much purer. All that pain and hate and love just bubbling beneath the surface. The way you turn your thoughts not only against each other but also against yourselves. It's like an all you can eat buffet," Ianto purred.

"You don't want a world to sell on the black market," Martha suddenly said, voice barely above a whisper as her gaze moved first to Ianto and then Gracie. "You just want humans."

"We'd never go hungry again," the alien whispered through Ianto's lips, eyes flicking briefly to Martha before they were back on Jack. Anger was making a home inside Jack now, his whole body tense, knuckles white with the urge to suppress it, his mouth pressed into a tight thin line, waiting for a snarl to burst free.

"You're thinking 'why him?'" the alien said through Ianto and Jack's eyes flashed with something that could have passed for fear. "You're reprimanding him for not being careful enough."

"Stop it," Jack barked, taking a step back now as if putting physical distance between him and the alien - him and Ianto - would stop his thoughts being projected.

"Almost two days he fought. I was nothing but a nagging sensation at the back of his head, a dull throb like he'd forgotten something. He didn't stop thinking all that time, even when it hurt too much to think there was always some thought or other at the back of his brain." Ianto was advancing on Jack now as he backed towards Martha and Gwen.

"The square root of pi. Call my sister. Didn't know he cared. One lump, not two. Visit the graveyard. Don't forget. Buy more biscuits. Her hand in mine. Pay the electricity. Kiss me. I'm so sorry. Restock the leaflets. Waking up alone. She's bought new shampoo. I know this song. I could just go. I need to do this." They were outside the hull of the ship now, Ianto reeling off any random thought that seemed to have been conjured up in him at one time or other, Jack squirming underneath his penetrating gaze.

"He wouldn't shut up," the alien spat from Ianto's lips, finally coming to a stop next to Gracie, who was smiling serenely. The rest of the criminals seemed to have gathered as well, flanking Gwen, Jack and Martha on either side so that there was no hope of escape without elbowing their way through.

"Even now he's not quiet," Ianto whispered. A glazed look passed over his face, like he'd smoked too much weed at the staff Christmas party.

"Thoughts are the one thing we have, though, the one thing that is still free," Gwen protested.

"Oh, your thoughts will still be free. Thinking will still be encouraged."

"They're not free though," Gwen said, gesturing at the people surrounding them, staring off into the middle distance like they were all wondering if they had left their oven on.

"Oh, you can have them back," Ianto dismissed, glancing briefly at the boy nearest to him that couldn't be any older than sixteen. He didn't look like a criminal to Jack and had no doubt been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jack watched him as he keeled over on the concrete floor and Martha went to him, presumably to check if he was still alive. After a moment she nodded up at Jack to indicate he still had a pulse.

"What about Ianto and Gracie?" Gwen asked, stepping forward slightly, feeling more at ease now that the numbers were even again.

"Two by two," Jack whispered as he watched Ianto's hand slip into Gracie's as if he was going to pull her back through the door into the hull of the ship any second. Ianto and Gracie both smiled lazily at Jack, obviously having heard him.

"Waste not, want not," Ianto told him before he turned towards the ship, pulling Gracie along behind him.

"Let them go!" Jack yelled, moving to go after them. He grabbed Gracie by the arm and she let out a yell like he'd physically hit her. Jack jumped back in alarm.

"Two humans, that's all we want and we'll never bother you again," Ianto said calmly.

"I don't care. You can't have them. Either of them," said Jack, making to move forward towards Ianto and Gracie again. Ianto let out a blood-curdling scream, his hands pressing into his forehead as Jack stopped dead in his tracks, Gracie whimpering quietly beside him.

"Either you let me take them, Captain, or I put enough thoughts inside their head to make it pop like a balloon," Ianto hissed through the pain. Jack's steely blue eyes set as he turned his attention back to the gas that swirled in spirographs, trying valiantly to ignore Ianto's pained keening that had started up again.

"Take me instead," Jack ground out through gritted teeth, his fists clenched at his sides as he saw Gwen's head flick round to face him out of the corner of his eye. Martha however didn't falter.

The alien started laughing through Ianto and then Gracie, both of them screwing up their eyes in both mirth and pain. Jack used the moment to his advantage, whipping out his gun and taking aim. The alien just continued to laugh through Ianto in reply.

"You think destroying me will release my hold over them?" the alien mocked through Ianto's lips, a flash of something in his eyes that caused Ianto and Gracie to scream again, Ianto clawing at the side of his head as he dropped to his knees, writhing on the floor.

"Jack!" Gwen screamed, clasping her hands to her mouth, tears in her eyes as she watched Ianto sobbing from the intense pain in his head.

"I can make them think things you, Captain, can not even begin to imagine," Ianto hissed again before letting out a choked sob, looking straight at Jack. Jack could hear Gracie begging for her mother and her father, but Ianto's eyes were locked with Jack's, a silent plea on his lips to end it. Jack's stance faltered with his gaze, his gun dropping slightly.

"What about Ianto?" Jack asked, gun flicking round to aim at Ianto's head, his grip sure again. He heard Gwen let out a cry of protest that tugged at his heart but he refused to acknowledge it. There would be time for recriminations later.

"Could you do it?" Ianto barked, looking straight at Jack now, eyes watering from the internal power struggle as he continued to kneel on the floor. "Could you take the life of someone you love yet refuse to tell?" Jack flinched at the words internally but held his composure.

"I've done it before," Jack hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes refusing to look at Ianto, instead falling on the gas that was shimmering just behind Ianto's head, his gun still trained on Ianto even though it was shaking in his grasp now no matter how hard he tried to hold it steady.

"Yes, you have."

Jack's eyes moved back to Ianto's in time to see the life spark back into them with sickening lucidity and Jack knew that Ianto would remember this later, that he already remembered everything. Knew everything. Jack looked briefly to Martha, realising her hand was already slipping into the back pocket of her jeans and he knew that it was over.

Gracie floundered about for a moment before dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes, her screams silenced. Ianto too collapsed backwards onto the hard floor, his head lolling to one side as his eyes slipped closed, the whites of his eyes on show as they rolled backwards in his head.

Jack barely had time to worry if Ianto was still alive before he felt smoky tendrils curling round his very being, invading every part of him with thoughts that weren't his own. Thoughts to kill, thoughts of hate and love all mixed in together, thoughts that blurred the lines between black and white, right and wrong, thoughts he hadn't had in a long time, ideas that seemed too far fetched even to him. It was too much. It was like every thought that was possible was flitting through his mind all at once and he couldn't do a thing about it.

However, his last thought as the darkness gripped him tight and dragged him under was his own.

Ianto.


	20. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

_"Thought is free."_  
William Shakespeare

Martha's hands were shaking where they held her gun in place, an apology still on her lips as she stared down at Jack's slumped form. The blood was clinging to Jack's hair and coat from the bullet hole Martha had left between his eyes. It took a moment for Martha to compose herself and realise that the threat had gone and she had patients to attend to. Jack however was dead. Again.

"Martha." Gwen's voice was scared but questioning.

"The brain can't make connections if it's dead and a thought no longer exists if there's no one to think it," Martha said clinically, finally lowering the gun and holstering it before turning to look at Gwen.

"There wasn't any other way." Gwen held Martha's gaze for a long moment before she inclined her head slightly to say she understood. Her eyes quickly flicked to the fallen form of Jack before she was moving away towards Ianto and Gracie. Ianto was already bringing a hand to his head and groaning as Gwen knelt down beside him, helping him into a sitting position. He squinted through his eyelashes at her, expecting sympathy of some form or other, what he got was an angry thump on the arm.

Ianto shied away from the enraged look on Gwen's face that soon melted into one of relief as she hugged him close. Ianto felt like he'd just woken up after going on an all-night bender. Details were fuzzy - like his tongue - and his head was currently housing the Edinburgh Tattoo. Everything shifted slightly to the left as Gwen pulled back from him, allowing Ianto to see Gracie and everything slipped back into his brain with horrifying clarity.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, as his gaze slide back towards Gwen. "I'm so sorry," Ianto repeated as a hand reached up to press against her cheek, his thumb grazing the fully formed bruise round her eye.

"It wasn't you," Gwen reassured him, her own hand covering his as a loud gasp rent the air. Gwen's head flipped round to watch Jack coming back to life quite suddenly, eyes darting round the room, searching out any threat that was still existent. His eyes fell on Ianto, but Ianto's own gaze didn't linger as Gwen pulled herself to her feet and Martha took her place.

Martha's eyes traced the scratches down the side of Ianto's head where he had clawed at it, a testament to how much pain he had endured.

"Martha? When did you get here?" Ianto asked, a confused look spreading across his features. Martha gave out a huff of a laugh that was somewhere between hysteria and relief as she shone a pen light in both of Ianto's eyes.

"You know me, Mr. Jones, always at the centre of the action," Martha teased slightly as he shied away from the light, a hand going momentarily to his head before he was turning away from her quite sharply to retch onto the floor of the warehouse. Martha sat back on her heels, rubbing soothing circles on Ianto's back as she met Jack's gaze from across the warehouse where he was now conversing with Gwen in hushed tones.

"Call Andy," Jack said softly, his voice loud and clanging in his fragile head. "We need to sort out getting this lot back into police custody." Jack glanced round at Cardiff's petty criminals and drunks shaking off the effects of mind control.

"Are you okay?" Gwen asked, a hand going to his chest to stop him from moving away. Jack still felt dazed from the onslaught of thoughts that had invaded his mind however briefly.

"I'll be fine," Jack assured, his own hand taking hold of Gwen's and squeezing in reassurance. "Call Andy, sort this lot out and then we'll take Gracie home to the loving arms of her parents." Gwen lingered for a moment before she nodded in agreement, moving away to make the phone call.

Jack watched as Martha helped Gracie to her feet, wishing to be allowed to help Ianto to his feet, who was currently floundering like Bambi on ice. Jack didn't think he would be well received, though, considering the skittish looks Ianto was casting his way. As soon as Jack moved towards the small group Ianto got his limbs under enough control to move out of the warehouse and away from Jack under his own steam.

"Martha," Jack said, stopping her as she moved to follow Ianto, Gracie still clinging onto her like a life jacket. "Thank you." Martha gave Jack a tight-lipped smile in reply but didn't say anything.

"Make sure they're both alright then check and see if anyone else needs medical attention," Jack ordered as the distant sounds of Ianto retching reached his ears. Martha nodded again before encouraging Gracie out through the loading bay.

Jack watched them go, Gwen following them, her frustrated tone bouncing back to him through the warehouse. "Yeah, I know he had no trouble with them Andy, but we might now-"

Jack turned back to the half-finished hull of the ship that no longer contained any thoughts and never would again. The contents of the containment box that was still sitting on a desk back in the Hub would never see the light of day again if Jack had anything to do with it.

"No flood today," Jack reassured himself.


	21. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

_"Better by far that you should forget and smile  
than that you should remember and be sad."_  
Christina Rossetti

Jack was staring out the kitchen window as the Jones family supped on lukewarm cups of tea that he and Gwen had laced with Retcon. Mrs. Jones was fussing over her daughter as Gwen relayed some cock and bull story but Jack wasn't really listening to what was being said.

Jack could still see the white tent next door that was hiding the blood splatters from the rain and nosy neighbours. If he closed his eyes thoughts of Ianto in the same predicament floated through his head, unbidden, clinging on with the last vestiges from the headache he had experienced earlier.

"I've been thinking," Gwen started as Jack pulled the front door of the Jones' residence shut behind them. They'd left the Joneses sat round the kitchen table like some drugged up Mad Hatters tea party. He pressed the key-fob for the SUV as Gwen paused, no doubt for dramatic emphasis.

"Why were you not affected but Ianto and Gracie were?" Gwen questioned as she pulled the passenger door of the SUV closed behind her.

"I didn't touch the artefact," Jack replied as he stuck the keys in the ignition.

"Do you think that the woman next door touched it?" Jack had been wondering the same thing.

"I doubt it. She wouldn't have had a chance to. I think maybe Gracie had something to do with what happened to her," Jack mulled over.

"But touching Gracie wouldn't have allowed the thoughts to jump would it? If that's the case then we would have got something off of Ianto." Gwen made it sound like mono – the kissing disease.

"Thoughts can be controlled, you know," said Jack.

"But what if-"

"Gwen, I think we just have to accept that we're not going to get all the answers this time. Also, maybe it's best we don't think about it too much. Thinking hasn't gotten us anywhere good these last couple of days." Gwen gave Jack a withering look.

"I suppose," Gwen conceded. "I just..." Gwen sighed, turning to look out the passenger window, her eyes watching the rain run down it in rivulets.

"Have you never thought so much that your head started to hurt?" Jack asked, not really expecting a reply from Gwen but she nodded hesitantly. "Maybe that's all that happened. The woman could have had a high blood pressure for all we know."

Gwen didn't say anything, didn't even turn to look at Jack. She was clearly having a hard time dealing with it, most likely due to her being the one to see the body. Jack hadn't seen what had happened but he had a vivid enough imagination to recreate it in his mind. They drove a couple of miles in silence before Gwen turned to look at Jack.

"Do you think-" Gwen broke off at her poor choice of words and Jack smiled slightly. "Are Ianto and Gracie are going to be alright now?"

"Martha thinks-" Jack frowned, unnerved that he couldn't seem to get away from the word. "Ianto bore the brunt of it after Gracie's initial thought. She says there's no signs of any lasting damage to Gracie. She's checking out Ianto now."

"What about you?"

Jack's face remained blank for a moment, like he was worried Gwen would be able to read his thoughts. "Me? I'm good as new."


	22. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

_"When the dawn comes  
Tonight will be a memory too  
And a new day will begin."_  
Andrew Lloyd Webber

"I'll drive you home if you want," Martha offered as she pulled off her latex gloves, watching Ianto carefully as he sat on the examination bench, cradling his fragile head.

There was nothing wrong with him physically apart from a blinding headache and scratches down the side of his face where his own nails had bitten into the skin. He'd already thrown up twice outside the warehouse and been administered the strongest painkillers Martha had available but he was still nursing what looked like the worst hangover imaginable.

"It's fine, Martha, get yourself checked into the hotel, I'll take care of him," Jack's voice sounded from the railings, causing both Martha and Ianto to look up at him. Ianto's gaze didn't linger very long before he was turning away, blushing slightly. Martha looked back at her patient before nodding once.

"Call me if anything changes, Ianto," Martha said softly, placing a hand on his knee in a comforting gesture before she was moving up the stairs of autopsy. She paused next to Jack, catching his arm as he moved to go to Ianto.

"Go easy on him, it's not his fault," Martha whispered, watching Ianto past Jack's shoulder before she was gone.

Jack reached Ianto, regarding him for a moment, hoping he would look up and make eye contact. He didn't.

"Let's get you home," Jack coaxed, pulling Ianto to his feet, steadying him as he wobbled precariously.

"You okay?" Jack pressed, watching as Ianto's head hung heavily between his shoulder blades.

"I'm exhausted and my head feels like it's going to explode, but apart from that I'm bloody fabulous," Ianto groused, some of the old Ianto back now. Jack gave a low chuckle, his hands still on Ianto, steadying him, trying to ignore the literal image of Ianto's head actually exploding like that poor woman's had.

"Jack, I'm sorry I-"

"Don't, Ianto," Jack said softly.

"But I need-"

"No you don't. Don't apologise. You haven't done anything wrong, the things you said to me were not your own words. We don't need to talk about this, we're fine," Jack replied calmly. Jack failed to mention the things Ianto had done to him – like shooting him in the head – as he watched Ianto's bottom lip quiver, as if he wanted to say something else.

"We can talk about it at a later date when you're feeling better, but not tonight," Jack continued softly. He was relieved when Ianto's head came up, his glassy blue eyes focusing precariously on Jack. There was weary defeat in them, blinking back exhaustion and pain. He nodded once then immediately regretted it. There was something else there, though, in Ianto's eyes, something that flung Jack back to the moment before the alien had jumped into him. A smile was tugging at one corner of Ianto's mouth as Jack nodded too in silent understanding that they would never really talk about it. They didn't need to.

Jack smiled sadly at him before he was pulling Ianto towards him, guiding Ianto's head onto his shoulder with a firm but gentle hand. Ianto barely resisted as Jack wrapped his arms round Ianto's shuddering frame and held him close.

"It's still so noisy," Ianto whispered breathily next to Jack's ear, sending shivers down Jack's spine.

"Stop thinking then," Jack replied, only half teasing as he pressed a kiss to Ianto's hairline. They stayed that way for a long moment, Ianto's breath soothing against Jack's neck before Jack was wrapping one arm round Ianto's back and turning him so they could walk out the Hub with Ianto's head still on Jack's shoulder.


	23. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

_"Just think how happy you would be if  
you lost everything you have right now,  
and then got it back again."_  
Frances Rodman

When Martha stepped out into the Cardiff morning air Jack was leaning against the railings looking out to Penarth and the horizon beyond. She lingered a moment, hand still on the door of the Tourist Information Centre, watching Jack as his gaze followed a Bay tour boat chugging out towards the barrage.

Martha joined him at the railings, leaning beside him and staring out to somewhere beyond the horizon. She waited - she wasn't sure what she was waiting for really, some great compelling speech about morals at the end of the story, or a long goodbye maybe. A joke was probably more likely.

"How's Ianto this morning?" Martha asked, breaking the silence between them, and almost startling Jack out of his daze.

"He'll live," Jack answered, not turning to look at Martha, eyes still firmly on the horizon.

Martha let out a quiet laugh. "I know he will, Jack. I am his doctor after all," Martha retorted, watching Jack now. He didn't say anything, just leant further over the rails, clasping his hands together.

"I meant how is he mentally?" Martha pressed, leaning further over the railings too, her hands steepling under her chin. Jack looked thoughtful for a long while, obviously mulling over something in his mind. Martha wondered if they'd talked. She could tell they more than dabbled now, that they were more than just sex. She'd seen the look of fear in Jack's eyes when Ianto's life had been threatened, the determination in him to get Ianto back.

"Guilty," Jack replied, leaning back so he was grasping the railing with both hands at arms length. "He's feeling guilty, and like he has to apologise for everything, including the broken mug when he passed out the other day."

Something twisted in Martha's stomach at the word guilty. "I know how that feels," Martha mumbled, not looking at Jack, but she could feel him looking at her as a solemn atmosphere descended over them.

"You did what you had to do," Jack said softly a hand moving so it rested over Martha's on the railings. "I don't hold it against you."

Martha was quick to reply. "I know. I know what I did was the right thing to do, Jack, the only thing we could have done to save them, but it doesn't mean I don't still feel guilty." Martha turned to look at Jack finally, their eyes meeting as Jack gave her a reassuring smile before pulling her into a one armed hug.

"What about Gracie?" Martha asked as she lent into Jack's embrace, her head fitting snugly under Jack's chin. Jack sighed into Martha's hair.

"She'll no doubt be waking up with the worst hangover she's ever experienced, that is until she reaches University, and she'll have no recollection of building Noah's Ark," Jack answered with far too much fake cheer.

"But she'll be alright?" Martha asked as she pulled away from Jack, looking up into his face.

"Yeah." Jack breathed out a sigh as he nodded. "Yeah, she'll be fine." There was a fraction of a second's pause where Martha barely had time to consider pressing the matter before Jack's face changed as quickly as the wind did.

"So how are the wedding plans going?" Jack asked.

Martha didn't even take a moment to consider the change in conversation before she sighed, rolling her eyes. "God, Jack, at this moment in time I just wish the Doctor would show up and sweep me away to the actual day where someone's done all of the organising for me. I've reached the stage where I'm willing to let my nephew pick out the canapés."

Jack flashed Martha a smile, chuckling slightly. "Oh, canapés, very posh." Jack almost licked his lips at the prospect.

"I think you've got a long way to go before you top Gwen's wedding, though," Jack commented and Martha glared at him. "I'm told it's all worth it in the end," Jack added as an afterthought.

Martha smiled wistfully, a look in her eyes that Jack knew only too well. "I can still un-invite you to the wedding you know," Martha threatened half-heartedly.

"Oh I'm coming, Martha Jones. Barring the end of the world, I will be there," Jack told her adamantly.

"Just keep your hands to yourself," Martha warned, pointing the finger now. "Leave the bridesmaids alone."

"Oh Tish and I go way back," Jack retorted, winking at Martha. "Anyway, I plan on bringing a hot date to your wedding, so my hands will be distracted from the bridesmaids," Jack replied, a cheeky smile on his face that made Martha consider revoking Jack's invitation again. Martha smiled though, a knowing smile, because her suspicions had just been confirmed. Definitely more than dabbling.

"Good to hear," Martha replied quietly, smiling up at Jack for a long moment as she considered what else to say to him. But, in the end she didn't say anything else on the subject, she didn't need to.

"It was so good to see you again, Jack," Martha voiced instead of the questions that were fluttering round her brain, reaching up on her tiptoes to hug him as he reached down for her.

"One of these days we'll meet and the world won't be ending and people won't be dying and we'll just have coffee," Jack whispered past her ear. Martha laughed, because it was a ridiculous notion. They were part of the end of the world survivors club after all.

"One day," she replied quietly, her lips brushing against Jack's cheek before she pulled back from him, squeezing his hand before she turned to leave.

"I'll see you soon, Jack," Martha bid as she started back towards the Plass.

"Be seeing you, Miss Jones," Jack called after her. She turned back at the corner, watching as Ianto joined Jack at the railings, leaning beside him where Martha had previously been. Jack looked across at Ianto as he said something, a smile breaking out on the Captains face before he was laughing. The smile Ianto gave him in return matched the look of mirth Jack was portraying. She watched the years and horrors strip away from the two men as they leant on the railings, watching the horizon.

Then Martha Jones had a thought, and smiled.


End file.
